


In Which Zeetha takes a Stand

by Han502653



Series: A Different Zeetha [2]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Mind Control, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Slavery, Very minor hints at Agatha/Tarvek and Agatha/Gil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han502653/pseuds/Han502653
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been several long boring months since Tarvek and Zeetha found out about The Slave Wasp, and they have nothing to show for it. And thanks to the newly recognized Wulfenbach Heir, Tarvek's old friend Gil, assassination attempts have been at an all time low.  Then the Circus came to town. And with them something neither Tarvek or Zeetha thought would ever come.</p><p>The lost Holy Child, Agatha Hetrodyne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Zeetha hears the news

                Zeetha was bored. This was not a new feeling for her. She had never been one for sitting or standing still for long periods of time. Unfortunately, as a forced guard of Princess Anevka of Stumhulten, she found herself stuck doing so often.

                It was night and the two of them were in one of the castles overly decorated parlors. Anevka was sitting on one of her special chairs reading. Her life support lay out behind her like a casket, for once not held aloft by some of her strongmen. Who had instead been waved to wait out in the hall after Anevka had decided she was annoyed by their presence.

                Zeetha leaned against a wall, gazing out a window to the town she had never been in. From here she could see almost the entire western side of the city. The watch towers and great walls far in the distance. Airships docking and ascending over at the airship port, even at this hour work was at full swing. The blue glow of the new arching electrical lights, of which their construction map still burned in her pocket. But most of all she could see the grand lights of the Royal Theater where an impromptu show was happening at The Prince’s orders.

                The Prince himself was out of the castle and at the show. Tarvek had left to join him not to long ago after having been delayed by the Geisterdamen. It had been the second time in her entire stay that she had actually seen the Geisterdamen, and it had only been briefly. She had no idea what they wanted, but she expected they weren’t happy with The Prince being away. They didn’t like either of the Royal Children, or trusted them for that matter.

                Which to be fair was a smart move. Neither Tarvek nor Anevka had any interest in bringing back Lucrezia their “goddess.” And Tarvek as least had no love for the slaver wasps that were hidden below her feet. She wasn’t so sure about Anevka.

                The door behind her opened with slightly more force than she was used to hearing in the castle. She spun in a blur, putting herself between Anevka and the intruder, only to be disappointed to see it was just Tarvek. She had been half way hoping for a little action. Assassination attempts were at an all-time low. Anevka had stopped getting targeted over a year ago. Snotty nobles making the mistake that she, now mostly a clank, was beneath their notice. And nobody had tried to target Tarvek for over two months, a new record since she had arrived. Zeetha figured everyone was too busy trying to deal with the new Wulfenbach Heir to bother with rival Storm Kings. She doubted it would last, but it made for a boring few months.

                She was rather impressed by the Young Wulfenbach. One of the hundreds of papers the castle received had taken to writing up every assassination attempt on him that had failed. She doubted half of what was in the paper was true, nor that it knew anywhere near all the attempts on his life but even then it was impressive.

                Tarvek pretended not to care, but she had spotted the paper in his waste bins more than once. His mutter, after reading about the Mad Heir in Beetlesburg, about how this paper was absolute trash, was telling in of itself.

                “Well,” Anevka drawled, placing a book mark in her book. “That was overly dramatic.” She tilted her head at her brother. Zeetha looked over as well, suddenly concerned. Door slamming was not a normal Tarvek behavior. “Something on your mind, Brother?” Tarvek was pale, his eyebrows furrowed.

                “Father _found_ her,” he said as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “One of the actresses in the show, her voice matched _exactly_.” The room went silent. Then a slow grin stretched across Anevka’s face.

                “Exactly you say,” she drawled out slowly, the corners of her mouth stretching far too wide. “And what dose Father plan on doing?”

                “He’s having her come here for dinner,” Tarvek grimaced. “And then, well—"

                Anevka nodded, her grin falling. “We’re going to need to do something about that.” She stood. “Tarvek fetch my strongmen,” she ordered.

               “Fulmen,” she continued, and Zeetha started as the jolt bit her neck. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, or perhaps she had simply gotten used to it, but it did knock her from her thoughts. She turned and shot Anevka a dark look. “I expect you to be on your _best_ behavior tonight, no heroics like last time.” Zeetha frowned in confusion for a moment, and then remembered that the Anevka that had helped her to her feet that day wasn’t the same one who stood before her.  She nodded slowly as was expected, her face carefully blank.

               Tarvek returned with the Strongmen, who quickly got into position and heaved the casket onto their shoulders. Zeetha tried to catch Tarvek’s eye but failed. She could tell he was distracted, fighting to come up with a workable plan. She had never thought that the Geisterdamen’s holy child would ever be found, and she doubted Tarvek had either.

              “I will see you at dinner then,” Anevka said as she gathered up her book. Her face twisting into an expression that made Zeetha’s stomach flip with nerves. Tarvek wasn’t the only one planning.

              “Yes, dinner,” Tarvek agreed.


	2. In which Zeetha prepares for dinner

                Zeetha sat as the edge of her bed, a strand of faded and slightly wet hair twisted around her fingers. She was wearing her best uniform, with the gold braid and brass buttons. The one she only wore when guests were coming to the castle. Under it, hidden by the cut of the uniform itself, was the leather armor she had received from Saint Nick a while ago, one she was certain was actually named Tarvek. Her room was richly decorated, but at the same time showed little signs of life.

                In the carved wooden drawers were several changes of her common uniform, as well as the night clothes she had never worn. Other than that, everything she could say she owned was in a small pile before her. A thin folded paper, that if opened would show a map of the entire Balan’s gap along with its neighboring areas. A small almost used up pencil, a handkerchief Tarvek had given her after an assassin’s lucky shot had given her a bloody nose. A spare poison assessment kit she had taken form Tarvek’s desk, useless since she didn’t know how to read it. And finally the small light device she had swiped from one of Tarvek’s labs. He knew she had it but she had also noticed he had built another one, so she considered it as good as hers. It was incredibly useful, especially it’s red light feature, it made sneaking around at night much easier.

                Carefully she began inserting them into pockets she had hidden amongst her uniform. She didn’t dare leave anything behind. Most of them were rather useless, but they were hers and onenever knew when something could become useful. Once she was certain she had everything put away and unnoticeable she stood and left.

                She knocked on Anevka’s door and was called in. Anevka stood surrounded by her many new maids in exotic dress. Anevka’s face was emotionless, which was strange. Usually she sported the illusion of a happiness and good nature, except for when it benefited her otherwise. She must be distracted by this, Zeetha thought, trying to rearrange her plans.

                Zeetha settled by the door silently, eyes staring down at the thick carpet without really seeing it. She was surrounded by planning, by scheming, by plots. It was exhausting, but the only way to survive was to try and out guess and out maneuver everyone else around you. Tarvek wanted to learn the Other’s secrets, Anevka wanted power and control, The Prince simply wanted the Other back. Tarvek and Anevka were allied for now, at least against The Prince, but that was never going to last.

                She, she wanted this collar off, or failing that, the Wasps gone.

                That meant she was allied with Tarvek, he had no desire to use the wasps, wanted to learn more about them so he could get rid of them. He was a sneak, was manipulative, but… she really didn’t think he was a bad person. Somehow, someway, he had managed to make it through this hell hole without becoming total trash. Instead he was an underestimated pawn with little to no power and probably the first person in consideration for the Spark Wasp should he try and change that.

                Zeetha scowled at her feet. It had been several months since the two of them had learned of the Spark Wasp, and since then they have found nothing more. Tarvek was sure it was either in the Geisterdamen Hive or locked in his father’s main office. A room so guarded Tarvek himself had only been in a few times.

                And now this, the Holy Child found, a match for the voice Anevka wanted so badly. A match none of them had ever thought would come. Tarvek and Anevka had been tweaking and testing her voice on one of the wasped servants unknowingly. Anevka would never let—

                Zeetha winced, and glanced up with frustrated eyes. Anevka stood before her, amused. “Lost in thought?” she asked with her stretched grin. Zeetha didn’t respond, just stared balefully. “Oh don’t _be_ like that, we’re not letting Father put her in that _dreadful_ machine,” she said with a breezy wave. Zeetha rolled her eyes; she had no doubt that they would try not to. That didn’t mean they would succeed, or that the fate of the girl would be any better.

                Anevka walked out and down the long halls surrounded by her new maids, Zeetha followed just behind as she had grown used to. Her body ached from suppressed tension, but on the outside she managed to appear calm.

                They approached Tarvek and the guest from behind. Zeetha could just hear Tarvek mummer something to the girl, but not what he said. Part of her hoped it was a warning of some sort but by the look the girl had as she turned at Anevka’s snark had her doubting it, plenty of confusion and surprise, but no real fear.

                Zeetha and Tarvek shared a look over the girl’s head. Only the faintest crinkle in Tarvek’s brows told her his concerns. Zeetha grimaced back, that was not good. If Tarvek didn’t have a good plan to get her out of this then they were going to have to rely on Anevka.

                “During dinner itself, I really _must_ insist on some intelligent conversation,” Anevka continued after giving the girl ample time to stare in awe.

                “Tinka,” The girl gasped after a moment, both Tarvek and Zeetha started in surprise.

                “This, mademoiselle, is my sister, the Princess Anevka Sturmvoraus,” he introduced in confusion. “And this Anevka dear, isMademoiselle Olga, her circus—” he paused then slapped his head in surprise, and perhaps a bit of embarrassment. “Of Course! Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure! I had forgotten their name, no _wonder_ she knew about Tinka.”

                Anevka, who had been examining Olga in a decidedly predatory fashion,stepped forward, “Extraordinary, then it is to your circus I owe my life.” Zeetha frowned, that was news to her. She knew Tinka had been the inspiration for Anevka but not that she had come from a circus.

                Olga seemed surprised as well, though perhaps for different reasons, “Do tell?”

                Tarvek grimaced, “Ah— an experiment of my father’s went wrong. I won’t bore you with the details but as a result my sister’s body was dying. The only way I could save her was to remove her from it. Easy enough, but the psychological trauma of that was slowly driving her mad.”

                Zeetha knew all that, though she was surprised by how easily Tarvek had explained. She had learned it all through bits and pieces over the years. Though his explanation, while not necessarily wrong, was highly misleading.

                “Well, I took it, I’m not proud of that, but I was running out of time.” Zeetha frowned as she left her thoughts. Tarvek had never referred to Tinka as an it before. Why was he doing so now? Of all things why was this something he felt he needed to hide.

                “And I did it,” he continued, unable to leave out the pride he felt. “I reverse engineered a Van Rijn’s design so that I could build Anevka a working body more sophisticated than a mere hand puppet.” He seemed to catch the growing pride in his voice and reeled it back. “I sent payment to the circus of course, but by then they had rather sensibly left town.”

                Zeetha watched Olga’s face carefully as Tarvek spoke. There was a slight bit of concern at first, but it was quickly replaced with wonder. “And your brain can fit in there? I would think the necessary mechanics alone—” She paused and covered her mouth in embarrassment and a bit of horror. No doubt about it she was a spark.

                Anevka burst out laughing and light bumped the top of Olga’s head with her fan. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear girl! You have no idea how refreshing it is to see actual curiosity.” Zeetha shifted a bit. The last person she knew who had shown any curiosity had been Lily, and look where that got her. “Most people do their darndest to pretend everything is normal.”

                She turned with a slight flourish, Zeetha having to quickly step to the side to avoid a metal arm to the head, and motioned to the casket and her four Strongmen with her fan. “That is where Anevka corpus is located. My catafalque keeps me alive, and through these—” she indicated to the leather wires sprouting out of the back of her dress. “I am able to manipulate this clever little doll my brother built for me.”

                Olga was understandably awed. “Your brother has done you proud, your highness; it’s a magnificent feat of medical engineering.” She paused, as if revaluating her words, then quickly continued. “And you wear it so well.”

                Anevka laughed, “He’s very clever for a boy who kept buttoning his shoes together.”

                Tarvek rolled his eyes, “I was four!”

                Anevka pulled him into a half hug and pinched his cheek. “Four and a half.”

                Zeetha forcefully ignored the bubble of amusement inside her. Now was not the time. Tarvek shrugged off his sister’s arm and turned to Agatha. “Ignore her. As you can see, she still needs work.” With his hand, he quite openly made the universal gesture that all mechanics made to declare “This is a dangerously crazy machine,” A warning hidden by sarcasm and a dig at his sister.

                Olga didn’t seem to be paying attention, unfortunately. Instead, now that the new invention mode that all sparks seemed to get had been accommodated, she seemed pensive. “But what happened to Tinka?” Tarvek’s mood instantly and noticeably popped along with his smile.

                “Ah, once again my father enters the story,” he started. Zeetha stared at him thoughtfully. He wasn’t trying at all to hide how his father was: Experiment gone awry that lost his daughter her body, sanity, and eventually life; the careless destruction to a Van Rijn. Couple with his obvious if masked warning of his sister; he was trying to warn the girl. It would just be like Tarvek to not give a frank warning when he had the chance and instead rely on subtle ones. Zeetha didn’t think that he completely conceptualized that everyone couldn’t discern such things as he could. That at times being frank was far better than being subtle.

                Then suddenly, as if been called for, a trembling mechanical voice called out from behind. “Hi -hihi-ness.” Thy all turned to find Tinka struggling through another doorway. Her steps distressingly jerky compared to the progress she had shown recently. She paused briefly at the door, scanning everyone quickly, and then stumbled.

                Tarvek jumped forward and steadied her. “Tinka! What are you doing out of your lab?” Tinka’s head swiveled to him, her eyes blinking with a click. “I—I—I heard s **-** servants said—Master Payne c-circus here?”

                Tarvek nodded,” Yes,” he answered slowly. “Miss Olga here is from Master Payne’s circus.” Tinka blinked again, her head turning with a click towards Olga who froze at the attention, something that neither Zeetha nor the Royal Children missed. There was a slight pause, and for a moment Zeetha could swear that confusion, and other emotions that were impossible to decipher, passed through Tinka’s eyes. Then she turned her head back to Tarvek and the moment was gone.

                “Would you—would you—I—I—k go—can— “Zeetha winced as Tinka’s talking began to stutter and ramble. It always happened when she tried to say too much at once. “Would you like to see me dance,” she finally sprouted, pushing away from Tarvek to gracefully twirl into a wall. Zeetha reached out to catch her before she could fall.

                Tinka blinked up at her, then over to Tarvek who had tried to lunge for her. “I—I require maintenance, ple-please-please-please-please—,”she continued on like that until Zeetha pulled her fully to her feet with a little shake. She stopped mid-word with a blink.

                Anevka tilted her head, and lightly tapped her folded fan to her cheek. “This is all very unusual,” she confided to Olga.

                “What, her condition?”

                “No the fact she is moving at _all_ ,” she explained with a shake of her head. Zeetha didn’t look up from where she was testing that Tinka could stand on her own. Anevka was wrong of course, but Tinka went out of her way to avoid her. Pretending to be shut off whenever Anevka slunk into Tarvek’s lab, only moving near her if Anevka’s body was shut down for maintenance. Still compared to her recent progress Tinka usually had more balance then this… and was less motivated to try and talk for this long. Let alone around anyone not Tarvek or Zeetha.

                Tarvek waved over a couple of servants, but Anevka stopped him with a tap of her fan to his shoulder. “Now, Brother, no need for you to bother the servants from their duties,” she said as she pointed her open fan at Zeetha. “Zeetha here has already got her; she might as well take her back.”

                “ _Anevka?_ ” Tarvek asked with just a hint of wariness.

                “I’m _sure_ she knows the way,” she finished with a large grin before snapping her fan shut. Then she turned on her heel to Olga. “Oh dear, I haven’t introduced you to my body guard yet have I, how _rude_ of me. This Miss Olga is Zeetha, I’m sure if she could she would greet you properly but unfortunately she is unable to speak.”

                Olga turned to Zeetha, as if this was the first time she had really conceptualized her presence. “Oh, hello Miss Zeetha,” she greeted. Zeetha after a moment of awkward silence, nodded back to her. She had no idea what Anevka was doing here; she had never been introduced to anyone before. Was this part of some ploy, or just a chance to make things more uncomfortable? You could never tell with Anevka.

                “She’ll be dining with us,” Anevka continued. “Once she’s _returned_ from her little errand,” she added with a meaningful glance at Zeetha before she turned away. “I will meet all of you at dinner.”

                Zeetha took the hint and gently grasped Tinka’s arm, who began to stutter again. “The circus, I must—I—”

                Zeetha shushed her until they were alone in the servant’s corridors.     

                “The Circus—I must,” Zeetha could hear the frustration in her tone. As alien as Tinka was to read at times, sometimes she could be surprisingly human. “I must.” Zeetha gave a little shrug, and a look towards the clank. Tinka had never mis-read her before, hopefully this time it wouldn’t be different. Tinka blinked up at her, and then narrowed her eyes in determination.

                “He—he—he—did not say I could—not go,” she said quietly looking away. “I could, I can.” By the time they reached Tinka’s lab Zeetha had remove her arm. Tinka walked beside her, far more gracefully than Zeetha could ever hope for, and completely on her own. At the door of the lab, Tinka stopped to glance up at Zeetha with a faint look of uncertainty. One Zeetha wasn’t sure was true or simply added for her benefit, but a look none the less. Zeetha squeezed Tinka’s arm with a nod before departing. Leaving her to make her own choice about what she would do next. Maybe she shouldn’t have encouraged her to sneak away, but If Tinka had people she cared about, and who cared for her in reach, she couldn’t bring herself not to.

                In the chaos of tonight she would have plenty opportunity to try.


	3. In which The Prince goes to far

                Zeetha snuck back into dinner just as Olga announced that the Baron’s son, no wait— Gil, had wanted her to marry him, and to see Tarvek choke on his soup. She then had the luck sit down at just the right time to be in the line of fire for Tarvek’s spit take as Olga announced herself as Agatha Heterodyne. Zeetha wrinkled her nose, and subtly wiped off the spray as a servant placed her soup down in front of her. As Ol—no Agatha continued on with her entire life story, Zeetha glared at Tarvek with wide, somewhat annoyed eyes. He had regained his composer, but he discreetly tapped his wine glass three times. Zeetha suddenly wasn’t thirsty.

                Zeetha listened to Agatha tale with half an ear as she took the information in. So she really was a Heterodyne. Zeetha didn’t really understand what that even meant, other than the fact that the Geisterdamen so called holy child was the daughter of a Heterodyne. She knew a little more, like the fact that the ancestral home of the Heterodynes was Mechanicsburg, (it always seemed to come back to Mechanicsburg didn’t it) and she had heard mention of the Heterodynes monster soldiers the Jägers. They came through the pass every once and awhile, but she had never seen one and had no idea what they looked like. That was it.

                Being the Holy Child though, she had a much better idea of what that entailed, and none of that was good.

                Zeetha halfheartedly ate as she listened to Agatha blabber on over the next few courses. Starting with an uncle who had left her with her adopted parents at seven and going from their. She could tell Tarvek was intrigued by her mention of the locket her uncle had given her, the one that made her dumb for years. “It was to keep me safe,” she started, a strange, hurt look crossing her face, “But, well…” and for the first and only time she changed the subject, moving on to her time as an lab assistant. Her body language as a whole was interesting, for the most part it matched what she was saying, but every once and awhile a scared, disturbed look would pass bye, quickly chased away by whatever The Prince had drugged her with, it was doing quite a number on her, that was for sure.

                Later Zeetha couldn’t help but pay closer attention as Agatha jumped into her time onboard Castle Wulfenbach. Interested in another’s thoughts and opinions of both Tarvek’s Gil, as well as this Baron she kept hearing about.

                It was obvious by the way she talked that she was afraid of him, he had kidnapped her to be a hostage, never bothered to question her, had taken many young children hostage, taken a slave hive aboard a crowded and enclosed dirigible, attacked a hero (who granted turned out to be not so heroic, she could have sworn she had heard the name Othar before, perhaps from one of Tarvek’s Paris rants), apparently brain-cored sparks, watched as her parents, his old friends, were murdered by his minion, and then ordered her sedated and captured.

                She had every reason to be terrified of him, and that was before she met the traveling group of minor sparks among others who were equally terrified of him. Mentioning that caused her face to slip into horror and guilt before it was pushed aside by the drugs. Zeetha sympathized; it was one thing to tell your own secrets, it was another to tell others secrets.

                Her opinion and view on Gil on the other hand, was… well… conflicted to say the least. When she really got in to talking about him, she started off slow and it didn’t take long for tears to start streaming from her eyes. She seemed to care about, and miss him, but thankfully, seemed to realize just how dangerous he was.

                Zeetha didn’t know what to think about Gil. From what Agatha said, he had been the first person to believe in her, and that obviously meant a lot. But he had also asked her to marry him even though she was a hostage of his father, and then, even after she had said no, refused to accept it. She didn’t quite understand how Europa marriages worked, it sounded far more like a contract than the romantic thing they kept trying to make it out to be, but that was just wrong. Agatha’s former situation was closes enough to Zeetha’s that it made her sick to think about too hard.

                And in the end it was hard to really think any of this thorough, not with what was going to happen next hanging over all their heads.

                “I suppose I will never see him again, if I’m lucky,” she told The Prince with a forced smile. “And this is simply a lovely torte.” With that she tilted forward, and it was only Zeetha’s quick reflexes that kept her from face planting into her desert. Even so, she still got splattered as some desert splashed up from between Zeetha’s fingers.

                “Was that really necessary,” Anevka sighed from next to her, “You have gone and ruined your jacket.” Zeetha didn’t spare her a glance as she retrieved her arm, Tarvek having propped Agatha up and was checking her vitals. Her sleeve was covered in cake, but then again, the front of her jacket smelled of wine. She gave the sleeve a halfhearted wiping of someone who really couldn’t care what happen to it.

                “Hmm. I think I may have used a _bit_ too much on her,” The Prince was saying as he checked Agatha’s wine glass.

                Tarvek looked up from where he was cleaning Agatha’s face, “You _think?_ ”

                Apparently Agatha wasn’t unconscious as Zeetha had thought, as she suddenly blinked up to him with a large smile. “You’re very cute,” she said in what she likely thought was a whisper, but really wasn’t. “I hope you didn’t think _I_ chose this ugly dress.” Tarvek’s face went red.

                “Oh dear,” Anevka tittered, “and here I thought she was telling the truth, and now it’s obvious she is hallucinating.”

                “Oh shut up,” Tarvek snapped, his face still red, but he had a slight furrow in his brows that always showed up when he was plotting on the fly. Whatever plan he had managed to make before all this began, it obviously hadn’t involved Agatha telling her life story, nor being left in a drunk like state.

                Anevka tutted at her brother as she and The Prince rose. “Zeetha if you _please_ ,” she started with a wave. “I believe our guest has had a little too much to drink tonight and could use some help walking.”

                Zeetha managed to keep her face blank as she rounded the table to take Agatha from Tarvek. She swayed in her grasp, eyes’ glancing around the room aimlessly, not quite seeing what was in front of her. Zeetha ignored The Prince as he practically danced in place, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

                “Come! Bring her! I have everything prepared!” Tarvek and Anevka shared a glance, while Zeetha tightened her grip on the girl, her mind on the route ahead of her and of which branching pass would be the best to take. Agatha wasn’t the lightest person in the world, but she was sure she could pick her up and move without too much loss of speed.

                The collar around her neck dragged her down. If she was quick she could escape out of earshot before they noticed, but even though she had never seen it, she knew there was a remote somewhere out their connected to her collar, probably a lot closer than far away. Maybe she could try and store her in one of Tarvek’s labs for him to find later. That might be her only chance, but which one was closest…

                “But Father, wait. Shouldn’t we—” Tarvek started before stuttering off as if desperate thought; “Shouldn’t we send for some of the others, they would want to be present for something so momentous.”

                Anevka chimed in right after, even as the party began to move. “Father, even if you are sure she is The One, this is a terrible idea, you could _kill_ her.”

                The Prince waved this away. “Bah! The others died because they were not her! It’s as simple as that. I have manipulated every other variable and failed.” He glanced at Anevka, and for a second a flicker of remorse flashed on his face. “You should know that better than anyone, Anevka.”

                She was silent for a moment, then the Clanks eyes blinked once. The click Zeetha had long gotten used to, seemed louder than normal, more alien. “I do Father.”

                Zeetha winced as the children failed, her own plan crumbling faster than she formed it. None of Tarvek’s labs were nearby, and the closest one was one she was certain Anevka at the least knew about. As they hurried down the corridors, more and more servants joined them, lighting the hall ahead, opening doors, and with them came guards who quickly began to box her in. Even if she was to run at this point, chances are she would be dead before Agatha was anywhere even close to safe, and then the only ally she would have in this castle would be Tarvek, not ideal in the least.

                Then, before she knew it, they were in what was once the castles chapel, and was now a temple to a crazed woman. Most of the chapel was taken up by a tall glowing device, it’s couplings and supports jamming into the ceiling with no regard to the images they speared that could still be faintly seen. At its base was what could only be described as a throne, if not for the heavy duty straps bolted on it. Directly above it was over a dozen crystal rods jolting down so they were right above the head of the helpless occupant.

                “Liga eam anima,” The Prince snapped without warning as he waved two guards forward. The jolt struck her hard and she could only just feel as Agatha was pulled from her hands. Over the years she had gained some resistance to the other two shocks, but never this one.

                “Strap her in!” She could just hear him through the buzz that cluttered her ears. Then it was just noise until finally…

                “Satis,” he said as if an afterthought. Zeetha could barely stop herself from tilting forward as the jolt let up. Her ears rang with a high pitch note but she managed to stay on her feet, more than what she could usually ask for after such a shock. She looked up and realized belatedly that Agatha was already strapped down. Her eyes still glazed over from the drugs.

                Tarvek moved closer to Agatha and The Prince, who darted around the machine adjusting dials and checking settings. “Father, don’t do this.”

                “I must! Our family has been given a scared task! I will complete it! I will prove that I am still worthy to lead The Order!” He made a final adjustment and turned to him, the gleam in his eye causing Tarvek to take a step back in alarm. “I will see her again,” he ended in a whisper.

                Zeetha’s eyes flickered from person to person to machine as Tarvek made one final, desperate, and hopeless plea. Realization dawning on her that Agatha’s only chance was for her to attack the machine. If she was lucky perhaps she could damage it enough to give Tarvek some time to sneak Agatha out as they fixed it. It would be her death, but she was not about to watch another die to this machine. Not again.

                Her body tensed and just before she made to leap, a cold metal hand anchored her to the ground. Her head jerked towards Anevka in a fury, only for it to cool at the deadly look Anevka sported. “ _Don’t_ do anything hasty,” She ordered her voice barely more than a breath. “I have this.” She glided towards her father and brother just as The Prince grasped Tarvek in an iron grip.

                “Of _course_ I’m sure! The harmonic readings are perfect! The people _obeyed_ her! She confessed to being Lucrezia’s daughter! This _is_ The Child!” He released Tarvek and turned towards Anevka. “Anevka, _you_ know, don’t you? Tell your brother that I am correct.”

                Anevka nodded once,” I do believe that he is correct brother. Therefore—” She reached out and clutched her father’s head, and before anyone had a chance to react, a bolt of electricity shot through him. Zeetha jumped, and to her later embarrassment stumbled back, she had not known Anevka could do that.

                Anevka’s wig and clothes burst into flames, her jewelry melted into blobs of metal that clung to her neck and wrists, her body was left covered in carbon dust. She looked down and tsked. “That was my favorite dress,” she told no one in particular. Below her on the floor was the smolderingbody of The Prince. His hair and clothes reduced to ash, sparks randomly sprouting from the still form.

                The Prince was dead.


	4. In which Zeetha gets quite a shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry by how late this is. But yesterday I spent the entire day in a school lab trying to get a couple of school projects done and it completely slipped my mind. But here you go.

                Zeetha stared down to the corpse numbly even as Tarvek snapped out of his shock. “Anevka, what the hell—!”

                Anevka spun on her heal, face furious. “Do you know how _many_ girls Father’s destroyed in that machine? Do _you?_ ”Tarvek shut his mouth and lowered his head. Anevka stepped closer. “I _do_! The only thing that could _possibly_ have made it all worse would have been if he actually succeeded. And make no mistake. He would have. She is the _one!_ ”

                Zeetha looked up, still numb, from the body of her enslaver. Part of her mourned the fact she would never have the chance to do it herself, but most of her was slowly coming to be relived he was gone. She eyed the clank in front of her, and if she hadn’t known any better, she would think it was the actual Anevka talking, but no it had been far too long since she seeped out for it to be so. The Clank believed she was Anevka, and the real Anevka had a strong reaction to her father’s actions, so it was no wonder The Clank did as well.

                And The Clank wasn’t Anevka. No, she was too different from the woman who had pulled her to her feet, who had apologized. Zeetha could see it every time Tarvek was surprised by her actions and words. Zeetha doubted Anevka had ever been the face of good, but she hadn’t been someone who thought a good way to deal with anger was to kill a servant, or torture a guard. This clank was her own person; she just didn’t know it yet.

                At some point during all this Agatha had regained some lucidity, and now was struggling halfheartedly against her bonds, obviously still a bit disorientated. At Anevka’s words she stopped and looked up at her, then down at the remains of The Prince. A faintly disturbed look crossed her features. “Did you do that just for me?” She stopped in thought. “Should I thank you?”

                Anevka strode up to her, ash falling off her as she did so, and tilted her head to one side. “Don’t be silly, girl.” She reached up and poked Agatha on the forehead, a short burst of electricity arched and Agatha collapsed. “I have my own use for you.”

                That’s when Zeetha managed to push off her numbness, and a wave of emotions swelled over her. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and counted backwards, when her emotions no longer threatened to overwhelm her, she opened them to find Tarvek kneeling at Agatha’s side, checking her vital signs.

                “But shouldn’t we-“       

                Anevka waved him into silence. “Come along, Brother, the clock is ticking and we have much to do.” She looked over at Zeetha, her face once more unreadable, her carbon incased form suddenly much more intimidating. For a second Zeetha thought she saw some sparks come from her hands. “Pick her up and follow,” she ordered, before swinging out of the room.

                After that it was chaos, news of The Prince’s death spread amongst the servants like a current of electricity. Forcing Tarvek to leave to take command and try to bring everything under control. After all this he would be the new prince, Zeetha realized belatedly as she followed the still bare clank through the winding halls Agatha in her arms, if someone didn’t take him out first.

                They stopped at the lab Tarvek had set aside for Anevka and her maintenance. Gently Zeetha laid Agatha out on the cot that had been shoved into the corner of the room, while Anevka glanced over the equipment that Tarvek used to fine tune her voice. She gazed hungrily at it, but forcibly kept herself from touching it. She no longer had the Spark, mad ideas yes, the urge to invent yes, but the ability to create those ideas, to bring them to life, had been left behind in her organic body. She ran a real risk that if she touched some of Tarvek equipment she may break it. Zeetha wished she would try.

                Zeetha sat down at the edge of the cot and crossed her arms, watching Anevka warily as she circled the equipment, her strongmen struggling to maneuver behind her. Then Anevka glanced over to her and Zeetha swallowed nervously, but the door of the lab opening distracted her. One of her maids snuck in, eyes darting everywhere, a pile of clothes in her hands. Zeetha had a feeling that how The Prince died, while not confirmed, was making its way around the castle as well.

                Just as the maid finished dressing Anevka, Tarvek returned looking harried and disheveled. Anevka clapped her hands in false delight. “Good, now we can get started,” she began, and then she began rattling of preparations and tasks for him, snapping at him when he was slow to start. He jumped and stumbled off to work, quite notably circling around her reach.

                Zeetha watched from the corner as some invention or another began to take shape on the table next to Anevka’s voice tuner. Once Tarvek ventured over to her corner while Anevka’s back was turned, and was met with a glare, he flinched.

                “It’s _not_ going to kill her, or even hurt her,” he defended, his voice just on the verge of madness. “Just record her voice.” And give power to a psychotic clank. And suddenly turn Agatha into a liability to be taken care of. Zeetha felt absolutely justified to continue glaring as Tarvek got what he needed and departed.

                The worst part though, was knowing that she had no way to stop it. Not with The Princess shock fingers hovering around. Not with this collar around her neck. Not with Tarvek coming to heel like a scared dog.

                Within the hour Tarvek was done, and Zeetha was, and she hated herself for it, strapping in the half undressed, unconscious girl. Guilt ate at her as she stepped back in time to watch as Agatha flinch away from the small glass vial held beneath her nose. She tried to move her arms and her face furrowed when she couldn’t. Her eyes half opened, and then widened in surprise. She gazed down to where her feet were strapped and began to struggle in earnest.

                “Oh good you’re awake,” Anevka said with cheer as she turned a dial. “Happy?”

                “Certainty not!” Agatha snarled. Her eyes roamed around the room, to Anevka, then finally to Zeetha. Their eyes locked and Zeetha slumped into her shoulders. “Let me _go!_ ” Zeetha hesitated, again wondering what the chances are that she could take out Anevka before being killed. Now that she knew she could kill with a touch as well as through the collar, it didn’t seem like her chances were good at all.

                Anevka must have seen her thoughts flicker on her face because her grin dropped to a small frown, then, offhandedly, as if it was such a pesky thing to deal with, “Liga eam anima.”

                Zeetha yelped, and without meaning to, she backpedaled until she fell to her bottom on the other side of the room. Her hands clasped at the collar, which really didn’t do much except burn her finger tips, and she curled in on herself. It hurt, more so because of the fresh burn from earlier that adorned her neck.

                “Satis,” a voice finally whispered. Zeetha took a deep breath and regretted it. Her throat burned horribly. She blinked once, managing to make Tarvek out from the blur, before letting them fall closed. Anevka tsked from across the room.

                “Their, now it’s just the two of us,” she smiled back at Agatha who was straining to look behind her range of vision to where Zeetha had fallen.

                “What,” she asked horrified, and then much angrier, the spark taking over her voice. “What did you _do_ to her?”

                “Nothing important,” Anevka brushed off, inspecting imaginary fingernails. “Now, do you have any questions?”

                “Questions!” Agatha strained at her bonds and glared. She obviously had a great number of questions, and opinions, on this situation, and she jumped into them with great gusto. Zeetha didn’t move from where she had fallen, even after Tarvek had returned to his station, taking the recording and using it to retune Anevka voice box on the go. Her throat burned with every breath, and her finger tips stung. Instead she simply stayed curled up, as she listened to Agatha unwittingly fall prey to Anevka’s plan. Helpless.

                Agatha went on for about a half hour before she seemed to realize that Anevka wasn’t listening. “Are you even _listening_ to me?” she growled.

                “Oh yes,” Anevka reassured as she did one last tinkering with the controls. “And you have been _just_ perfect. In fact I think you’re done, dear.” From her spot on the floor, Zeetha could hear the machine as it was shut down, and Anevka rummaged through something or another. “And now, let’s hear you _beg_ for your life,” She stated cheerfully.

                Zeetha’s head sprung up, just as Agatha let out a confused “what,” and Tarvek squawked in surprise. Zeetha clambered to her feet, but Tarvek was faster and seemed to have gotten over his wariness of Anevka’s magic touch as he snatched her wrist.

                “Stop!” he ordered. Zeetha approached from the side cautiously, wondering if Tarvek was next to die.

                “But _why?_ We have all the readings we need.” She complained as if a child. Tarvek held firm.

                “Don’t be a fool, we should test it first.” Anevka paused to consider this, and then with a sigh she flicked her wrist and tossed the scalpel she had been holding back onto the tray.

                “You’re right of course,” she said regretfully. “It would have been _unforgivingly_ stupid to kill her before we are sure.”

                Zeetha jumped as a commotion from out in the hall broke out. The lab door was thrown open, and in the doorway were four men, bruised and disheveled, struggling to keep a Geisterdamen contained, several other guards filling in around them. Zeetha was surprised to recognize her, Lady Vrin, the same one she had seen during her one trip into the underground. She was wearing a finely cut robe and little else and as soon as she saw the Royal Children, she roared out in anger.

                “ _What_ is the meaning of this? Where is The Prince?” She paused as she noticed Agatha. “What are you children playing at?”

                Tarvek stepped forward. “Good evening Lady Vrin,” he started off diplomatically. “There are some things you need to be made aware of-“

                Vrin surged forward, nearly sending the guards to the floor. “Release me you _insignificant_ worm.”

                Anevka sighed and crossed her arms. “Oh, I _really_ don’t want to listen to any more of this, Tarvek?”

                He stepped back to his control panel and made a few more adjustments even though he had been working on it throughout the encounter. “I have retuned your voice box. Try it now?”

                Anevka stepped out in front of the frothing Geisterdamen, arms folded behind her back, as unconcerned as one can be. “Release her,” she told the guards. They did so and Vrin launched at her.

                “Lady Vrin? _Kneel!_ ” Anevka ordered, her voice suddenly booming throughout the room, sounding remarkably like Agatha’s. The effect on Vrin was automatic. She froze and dropped to her knees.

                “Lady?” she whispered. Instantly she grasped at her head and screamed. The servants lunged forward to grab her. She glared up at Anevka “You are _not_ her,” she seethed in pure hatred.

                Anevka’s head fell to one shoulder. “Tch. It appears you were right, Brother. We are not there yet.”

                Tarvek nodded slowly, and Zeetha could see some tension leave his shoulders. She narrowed her eyes and wondered just how much Anevka’s voice not being perfect was real and how much was it because he made it so. It kept Agatha alive for another day. And Anevka hadn’t been aware of Lady Vrin arrival until she arrived. Tarvek had planned this, had to have, but now what.

                “Hmm. I suspect your speakers need more bass. Maybe what I need to do is isolate the command harmonics and then amplify them…” He rambled, a slight spark tone in his voice.

                “Yes, yes,” Anevka sighed, patting Tarvek on the shoulder. “You _do_ that.” She turned back to Agatha and with the turn of a switch she was free. Agatha stiffly pulled herself off the table, and two guards sandwiched her. “Have these two troublesome girls placed with the others,” she ordered, and then paused, tapping a finger to a metal lip.

                ”Fulmen.” Zeetha winced, one hand darting up to her abused neck. “Why don’t you help them escort out new _guest_ to her new quarters,” Anevka said with a sickly sweat tone and a disturbingly wide grin. “And change your clothes before you return, you really have ruined them.” She added, some haughtiness returning to her voice. Zeetha leaned away, but jerkily nodded. She sighed, another one of Anevka’s games, a punishment, a way to show that she had no power.

                Zeetha joined Agatha’s side. Vrin, who was surrounded in front of them, rallied and called out, “You will _pay_ for this! When your father, and The Order-“

                Anevka interrupted her. “My father is dead. And this pathetic girl,” She waved a hand toward Agatha. “She is your ‘holy lost child’ for all the good it will do you.”

                The information struck Vrin silent and complacent, and she didn’t argue as they left the room. Zeetha glanced out of the corner of her eye to Agatha, who simply looked lost and confused. She had no idea.

                Agatha shivered, and even though to Zeetha she seemed rather clothed, Zeetha remembered the rant Agatha had thrown at Anevka. Being half clothed had been at the top of the list for things to complain about. So she ducked into the next branching hallway. One of the guards made a startled gurgle, not sure if he should chase her or not.

                Zeetha returned at the next branch, only a moment later, not even out of breath. In her hands was a bundle of cloth, a simple cotton shirt and pair of trousers. She passed it to Agatha who was so surprised that she barely caught them. The guard behind them shifted again, but left them alone. They continued along in silence, Agatha stealing glances at Zeetha when she could.

                Finally, “Who _are_ you?” Agatha murmured. “You aren’t here because you want to be, are you?”

                Zeetha snorted, and the guard behind them skipped a step. Zeetha glanced over her shoulder long enough to give the startled guard a withering look, then turned to look down at Agatha. She considered the girl earnest stare and the honest curiosity in her eyes. She was exhausted: mentally, emotionally, physically…  She really didn’t care anymore, but this girl had done her nothing wrong.

                So she unbuttoned the top button of her jacket, and pulled it down just long enough to flash the thin metal strip underneath. Agatha let out a light gasp as she caught glimpse of the scaring and discoloration on her neck before Zeetha jerked her collar back up.  Zeetha looked away from Agatha’s look of pity, feelings of rebellion and shame fighting for supremacy insider her. Still…

                “Zeetha Skifandias,” she added her voice just a hair above silent, pulling a face as the words pulled at her burn. Agatha’s eyes went wide.

                “You can talk?” Zeetha shrugged. The two of them fell into silence, Agatha looking pensive. The walls around them changed, from plaster and tapestries into rough stone. Zeetha rubbed her other arm. Uncomfortable with the silence but unsure if she should even try to end it.

                “Skifandias,” Agatha said as if tasting the word. Zeetha looked over at her strangely. “You mean like Skifander, ‘The Warrior Queen’s Hidden Jewel,’ ‘Guardian of the Red Mountain’?”

                Zeetha’s mouth fell open in synch with the cell door. She only had enough time to nod as the door slammed shut.


	5. In which Zeetha gains hope

               Zeetha returned to her room in a daze. Years of Skifander leading to blank faces. Skiff deemed nothing more than the babbled of a brain damaged slave. Fuzzy and not so fuzzy memories challenged, judged, and pushed aside.

               And now… now someone had gone and recognized it. Someone had heard of Skifander. It wasn’t just in her head anymore.

               Zeetha reached her room and closed her door behind her before slumping down it until she collapsed into a ball on the floor. Her face was locked into the perfectly blank façade she had long since mastered, but the rest of her body twitched and trembled from a mix of emotions she could barely decipher.

               Relived, Overjoyed, Amazed, Frustrated, Enraged, Hurt, Pained…

               She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes and sucked in a breath, a delirious mix of a sob and laugh. Her home, her home existed. Her mother, her kolee, her queen, Brakka na Zantabraxus existed. Her uncle, her confidant, Prince Nod existed. Her cousins, her best friends, Zed and Zedmara existed.

               High Chef Arda, Zox, Aunts Zoni, Zemar, and Zar existed. Her many other aunts, uncles, and cousins existed. Her Grandmamma who could never fully get over her prejudice, her Great-Grandmamma who looked her into the eye as a little girl and told her she could be one of the greats, if she was willing to work for it.

               It existed, they all existed, and she was never going to see them again.

               Tears dripped from behind the palms of her hands as the waves of loss struck her. She cradled her face into the crook of her elbow. Forcing sharp, controlled breaths through her nose, trying to drive her ravaging emotions back under her control.

               Her land was real, her Goddess was real, and it felt like she had been thrown to the rapids. Thinking Skifander wasn’t real, wondering if Skifander wasn’t real, that had hurt, but not like this. Now she knew for sure what she was missing. What she had lost. That out their somewhere her mother, worried sick she was sure, had now not only lost her bonded and son, but her daughter as well. Her cousins, her uncle would mourn her. In two years she will be declared dead, a tomb devoid of ash with her name.

               She shouldn’t be so surprised, how much this hurt, and perhaps she had known, deep inside, perhaps she had allowed herself to be swayed by fear of pain. She had wanted Skifander to be real, oh how she had wanted, but at the same time she hadn’t. It had been simpler, easier to deny than accept.

               In an ironic way she found it funny. She now knew it existed, but had no idea where it was. Even if she did, by some miracle, find a way out of this collar, from this fortress, she still had nowhere to go. She was lost, completely and utterly lost, and the only person who could tell her was—

               Zeetha paused, and then slowly sat up straight, her clutched hands sliding down to rest on the floor. Someone knew, someone knew… and that someone was locked up in a cell with a bunch of Geisterdamen in a middle of a hungry power grab. She should… she should probably do something about that.

               Zeetha stood and began to pace. A hand migrated to her hair as she tried to think, getting tangled in the invisible snarls she hadn’t deemed necessary in dealing with earlier. If she could just get Agatha free, she could send her towards one of the secret passages, but which one? She had a vague idea on the guard patrols on the different passages, and in the dungeon, but chances were they had been changed and upgraded tonight, after all that’s happened it would be uncharacteristic for it not to be.

               She personally could get through the low security areas of the castle, even at high alert. As The Princess bodyguard most of the servants, and many of the guards, would not think to question her. Her status among the servants was a mixed blessing. She was not one of them, though she doubted many of them realized she was a slave, she was still an outsider. She didn’t speak with them; for the most part they wouldn’t know she couldn’t. Her job meant she was on duty at all times, any free time she had was late at night where she was supposed to stay in her room. She even ate with The Princess, meals that the other servants held jealously for. Because of this she had no allies among the servants, many who saw her as stuck up, they would not feel inclined to cover for her. But they also didn’t question her as she moved throughout the castle. For all they knew she had nearly free reign.

               She had stopped at some point in her pacing, and she now found herself staring at the dusty blanket that had covered the mirror for nearly three years. All her thoughts stumbled to a stop. Several moments of silence passed, then without warning Zeetha’s hands shot out and pulled the blanket from over the mirror, as if moving a burning coal.

               The blanket pooled around her feet and for the first time in years Zeetha really looked at herself. She was no longer skeletal as she had been the last time she peered into this glass.

               With a quick movement she snatched her jacket off and threw it uncaringly across the room and then gave her arms a good flexing, pleased to see that much of the muscle mass she had lost had returned. Not all of it, no. She had tried though, sometimes spending all of the night doing pushups, and sit ups, and pull ups on the washroom’s doorframe when she didn’t feel like exploring. Still there was only so much you could do when you were glued to the side of a Metal Princess at all times. She hadn’t gotten the chance to really run since this all began; she cringed at what had happened to her endurance after all these years.

               Her color was much better as well, though still quite pale. Anevka was not someone who enjoyed the outdoors and as such Zeetha had rarely been outside. Her hair fell around her shoulders messily, faded and with the only care it had received as of late as halfhearted attempts after being ordered to clean up. Her eyes… well…

               Zeetha gazed at her face. It didn’t look like her, not like the girl she had seen in the reflection of Skifander’s river, the gliding pond, the buckets of water she used to drench herself after long days of training. Her cheek was streaked with tears, her eyelids bruised from weeks of looking for the Slave Wasp. Her eyes… her eyes were bloodshot red and yet at the same time they were, well… dead.

               Zeetha tore her gaze away and rubbed fiercely at the stains on her cheeks. That wasn’t her, that couldn’t be her. Not a Princess Guardian of Skifander, not Zeetha daughter of Queen Zantabraxus, of the Great Warrior Chump.

               Skifander was real, it was out there somewhere. She was not going to lose it again. She was going to find it.

               She was going home.

               Zeetha snatched the rarely used comb off her dresser and pulled it through her hair without care of pain. Tarvek was now The Prince, or he would be soon enough. That gave him power, power he hadn’t had before. That was good, except that meant he was now even more of a prime target than he had been. With the prime suspect being Anevka, if only because he wouldn’t expect it, now that she had The Voice she wasn’t about to let her brother have Stumhulten, at the very least he was going to lose a lot of his power very soon, become nothing more than a figure head. She didn’t know if Anevka knew about The Spark Wasp, it was unlikely, but there was always the chance, and that was dangerous. Her own protection against being wasped was quickly fading as well, now there was no chance the Geisterdamen could order her to attack Anevka, Anevka would not leave her as a lose canon.

               The only reason her protection wasn’t gone yet was because The Voice wasn’t perfect. And that was the only reason Agatha was still alive. She needed to get her out before the next test, it was the only way.

               As she pulled out the last tangle, Zeetha decided that the first thing she needed to do was to get Agatha out of Stumhulten, and to do that she needed to talk to Tarvek.

               Zeetha paused as she looked up. Her hair laid much more neatly around her shoulder, her stance had straightened, her eyes glow with determination. A slow, confident smirk grew across her face until it was a full, incredibly toothy, grin.

               This, this was her.

 

               Zeetha found Tarvek in Tinka’s lab not much later, an almost forgotten jacket thrown over her shoulder. He was sitting heavily at his desk, hands rubbing at his temples. Zeetha could feel some of the excitement that had been bubbling inside her fade. He looked horrible, slouched over and exhausted.

               She looked away and sighed. The Prince had been a horrible, insane man, but he had also been Tarvek’s father. She had never really known her father, but the idea of losing Uncle Nod, who had helped raise her, was unbearable. The Prince had never been a good father, but he had been all Tarvek had. He had the right to mourn, even if Zeetha would never do so.

               “Anevka gone to bed?” Tarvek asked after a moment. Zeetha nodded once. By the time she had finished in her room, Anevka had already closed her door for the night. She approached him, and glanced at the papers on his desk, a formal explanation on the death of The Prince and other papers dealing with it. “The town will be on curfew soon, no one in or out, and a Questor will be coming by from the Baron to investigate his death in a couple of days, I’m sure.”

               Zeetha nodded as she looked up, stopping to realize that something was missing, and something was new. A clank sat not far from the desk, peering at her, while Tinka was nowhere to be found. She placed a hand on Tarvek’s shoulder, “Huh?”

               He looked up and managed to grin. “This is Moxana, Tinka’s sister,” he said, his own share of excitement bubbling up into his voice. “She was with the Master Payne’s circus; Tinka left and brought her back all by herself.” Zeetha internally sighed, while she was glad Tinka had found her sister, it would have been better if she hadn’t gone and brought her back into this pit of snakes. “Moxana, this is Zeetha.”

               Moxana tilted her head at her at Zeetha who froze for a second. The look the Clank was giving her felt as if her entire being was being judged. Then Moxana handed her a card. On the card was a picture, a figure standing in front of a post, two paths branching off in front of him.

               “The Guide,” Tarvek mused over her shoulder. “It’s major meaning is to hint at long journey that will soon come, but it can also mean things such as soon meeting a new mentor, a major choice to be made, a new goal, a warning that you should ask for help…” he trailed off in thought. Zeetha stared down at the card, she was far from unfamiliar with fortune telling, though this method was new to her, and she couldn’t help but hope that this long journey might lead her home.

               She handed the card back to Moxana and looked around again, but no, Tinka hadn’t returned. She pulled at Tarvek’s sleeve and swept a hand in an arch through the air.

               “Tinka,” Tarvek asked coming out of his thoughts. “Oh, I—,“ he stopped and glanced around, then continued in a whisper. “I sent her to get Agatha out of here. If she can get to Master Payne’s circus on her own, surely she can get Agatha their too.”

               That was what Zeetha had been hoping for, so she was annoyed by the slight pang she felt at that. The best she could hope for was for Agatha to get out of this alive, but it would have been nice to get another chance to talk to her. She still didn’t know where Skifander was after all.

               “I, er, may have invited her back, you know after everything has settled down,” he admitted with an embarrassed grimace. Zeetha glared at him disbelievingly and he raised a hand in defense, “What,” he defended. “The muses seem to like her so—“ Zeetha tuned him out, still amazed by Tarvek’s admittance. Stumhulten would never get settled down, not enough to ensure her safety and certainly not anytime soon.  It would be nice to get a chance to talk her again though, though that lead to another obvious problem—

               “Your Highness! Your Highness!” A servant burst into the lab in a frantic panic. “The Geisterdamen, they have escaped.” He jumped away from the doorframe as Tarvek and Zeetha shot past, dashing full tilt to the chapel. As the closed in they could hear the whirling and banging of the machine, and just as they reached the hall the chapel was on, a blinding light came from the room.

               Agatha was talking with the Geisterdamen, but… it wasn’t Agatha anymore.

               Even as Tarvek forced his emotions back, and steeped forward to do damage control, Zeetha remained routed to the doorway, staring in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite chapter to write , and one of the first chapters I wrote. I think it really explains some of the awkwardness of the first part.


	6. In which Zeetha meets The Crazy Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some thinking I've decided to post the rest of this weeks chapters up. I have extra hours at work coming up, along with two big projects to finish for school, and I don't want to forget again like I did on Friday. feel free to read at your leisure, chapter 8 will go up next Monday like usual.

                Tarvek was speaking in a language she didn’t know, though some of it sounded rather… familiar. Zeetha didn’t pay much attention to that; too busy staring at the ghost in Agatha. She may look like her, but even before she spoke her body language was all wrong. The girl who had given her hope was gone. Zeetha felt faint, and had to lean against the wall next to the door. Her legs wouldn’t stop shaking, and she had to clutch her hands to stop them from joining in.

                So close. _So_ close.

                She watched as Tarvek found safety for himself, had to have considering some of the tension in his shoulders eased. Watched as the Geisterdamen shrieked with joy over some news or another. Watched as Tarvek made a face at something Vrin said. Watched as the imposter laughed. Watched as the Geisterdamen ran off.

                And that’s when she was noticed            

                “And who is this Tarvek, dear?” She asked in Romanian with a gleam in her eye. Zeetha didn’t bother to react. Tarvek grimaced from behind Lucrezia’s shoulder.

                “This is— well was, my sister’s body guard,” he admitted.

                “Hmm,” Lucrezia said with a frown. “Come closer,” she ordered, “and _out_ of those shadows.” Zeetha hesitated for a second, and then pushed off the wall and stepped forward into the still dim light of the chapel.

                “She is not wasped?” Lucrezia asked Tarvek.

                “No,” he said with some reluctance. “My sister had some concerns with her being wasped, she and your Geisterdamen never got along, you see, so she found other ways in keeping her in line.”

                “Other ways?”

                Zeetha tried to feel betrayed with what she knew was coming next but couldn’t gather up the energy.

                “…A shock collar.”

                “I see,” she nodded, eying the thin metal around Zeetha’s throat. It glittered in the dim light of the chapel. In her rush to get here she had forgotten her jacket in Tinka’s lab. “We are going to have to _fix_ that eventually, and the phrase?”

                This time he glanced over to Zeetha, if only for a moment, with a helpless look. “Thiers’ two, Inpulsa.” Zeetha winced, her head and shoulders jerking unwittingly as the spark bit into her neck. “For punishment and Fulmen.” Zeetha gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore her throbbing throat. “As a warning.”

                Lucrezia hummed again as she took another look at Zeetha. Her scanning eyes making her feel uncomfortable. Suddenly her humming came to a stop.

                “Wait a minute… green hair.” She scanned her again, looking surprised. “You’re Skifandrian!”

                It was only years of practice, and the fact that she had already been emotionally drained once today, that Zeetha could even attempt at keeping a straight face. Even so her eyes went wide. Lucrezia noticed.

                “You _are_ , aren’t you?” she declared, oblivious to Tarvek’s wide eyed shock beside her. She paused, hand on one hip. “A bodyguard as well… you’re one of its little princesses too.” She frowned heavily, and then reached out and snatched the front of Zeetha’s shirt. “How are you here?” she demands as Tarvek jumped. Only then did she realize what she had just done, gotten within striking distance of a Skifandrian Warrior Princess. Zeetha allowed herself to be pulled forward, and only belatedly and offhandedly realized that she could probably throw Lucrezia across the room if she wished.

                Tarvek jumped between them. “When my father bought her, he did so because even though she can understand Romanian, she is incapable of speak anything but babble,” he said in a rush. Lucrezia dropped Zeetha’s shirt and stepped back, looking surprised that she is capable of doing so. “She _hit_ her head apparently, brain damage.”

                ”Babble huh,” she muttered, eyeing the slumped warrior before her. “Mornnet natas voc. Baken!”<We see that. Speak!>,” She ordered in broken Skiff. Zeetha blinked and regained just enough of her mental facilities and self-interest to respond in her most obscure of the dark languages.

               “Spok da oh ha do,”<Speaks this one had done.> Tarvek narrowed his eyes at her. The language she had chosen did not sound much like Skiff, and even with not having a clue in how to translate Skiff, he can tell. Lucrezia though seems satisfied, even amused.

               “One of Zantabraxus’s little warriors,” she gloated with a little spin, missing Zeetha inhale at the name. Suddenly she knew who this was, the women her mother only remembered as “The Crazy Women” from her stories, the one who had ventured to Skifander with her father, Chump and the “Tall” and “Shorter” men. Zeetha couldn’t help but internally curses her mother’s inability to remember names. “Broken down to be my little pet, _oh_ this could be _fun_.” She turned back to her with a smile and a clap. “You could be useful.”

                “But first a better outfit I think,” She said with a small scowl down at the plain cotton, and rather conservative, clothes she wore. “I look as if I belong with the servants.” She looked back at Zeetha with a wave. “Skifandrian, go get me something better to wear.” Zeetha blinked, and glanced over to Tarvek.

                “Perhaps some of my sister’s clothes,” he suggested, catching Zeetha’s look. “You two are about the same size, and she has all the latest from Paris.”

                “Fine, fine,” Lucrezia said with another wave of her hand. “Just make sure it is something I can work in.” Zeetha blinked, then slowly backed out of the room. The door closed behind her.

 

                 Tarvek watched her go, and then cleared his throat with a cough. “I will of course have a suite set up for you,” he started. “There are secret areas to the castle. You’ll have to stay out of sight for a while, until after my father’s funeral. We can’t risk having The Baron’s people seeing you.”

                Lucrezia, who had been glancing up at her machine, frowned. “But surely these are your lands,” she said with some distraction. She paused and rethought his words. Then more seriously,” Why do you care about some lowely Baron.”

                Tarvek’s start was enough that even when focusing on her machine (What in the heavens had Wilhelm been thinking, this was all wrong), it grabbed her attention. She turned and gave him a strange look.

                “You really are out of touch,” he said with surprise. “Dose Baron Wulfenbach really mean _nothing_ to you?”

                Lucrezia eyes widened, and she turned back to her machine to regain her composure and try to reclaim the upper hand. “A Baron Wulfenbach you say? My, that dose take me back. His father meant quite a lot to me, but that was such a long time ago.” She scowled and crossed her arms, some annoyance dripping into her tone. “Though I _do_ wonder where _dear_ Klaus was keeping his mother? I had though he was the last of his family?”

                Tarvek looked confused. “Well there is a son, yes, but the one we’re talking about—” He shook his head and tried again. “Klaus Wulfenbach _is_ the one of whom I’m speaking of.”

                Lucrezia’s jaw dropped and she turned in a rush to gap at Tarvek. “HE CAME BACK?” Her voice echoed throughout the Chapel and out into the hall.

                Tarvek took a step back at the fear and astonishment that rolled off of her. The most honest emotions he had seen all night. He nodded. “Yes, only a few years after he disappeared.”

                Lucrezia reeled back. “Only a few—!” She turned and rubbed her hands together in agitation, but stopped as a thought occurred to her. “That man,” she said with a small wistful smile. Suddenly much calmer she glanced at the door Zeetha had just left through. “Though I _shouldn’t_ be so surprised.”

                She turned back to Tarvek who was trying not to be obvious in his wariness of her sudden changing moods. “How long do you think that girl has been in the country?” she asked of him.

                Tarvek was confused with the change of subject but answered, “I would have to check her papers to be sure, but she has spent nearly three years here with us, and I believe Father said she had been picked up by air pirates about ten months to a year before that in Italy. Other than that I don’t know.”

                Lucrezia tapped her fingernail to her chin in as she thought that over. “Do you think she could have entered the country at the same time as him.”

                “The Baron?” Tarvek asked confused. “I _highly_ doubt it. I don’t think she is much older than me, so she would have only been a small child then.”

                Lucrezia frowned in thought. Perhaps not then, but still, a Warrior Princess of Skifander outside their little hidey hole, all the way here in Europa…  What was Zantabraxus doing? What was this girl here for, unless… She hadn’t forgotten how chummy that Zantabraxus had been with _her_ Klaus. So perhaps…

                That girl was going to be even more useful than she had originally thought.

                Tarvek shrugged his shoulder, missing Lucrezia distracted look. “Honestly, I highly doubt she was in the country at all until just before Father picked her up. The Empire’s laws and punishments are _brutal_ against slavery.” Lucrezia blinked.

                “Empire, _what_ Empire?”

                Tarvek stared at her. Then slowly he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps you should have a seat my Lady, this will take a while.”

 

                Zeetha returned with what she hoped was a suitable outfit not long after. As she entered the room she was met with two, equally uncomfortable looks. Tarvek watched her with new interest, as if she was a puzzle he hadn’t yet figured out. While Lucrezia, who had looked stunned when she first entered, glanced with her like she was… well like she was a tasty morsel.

                Zeetha swallowed painfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spok da oh ha do - one of the Dark Countries languages. Very different from Skiff. No i'm not going to make a conlang out of it. i literally got the words from taking the actual sentence and stripping it of letters, and mixing it with familiar sounds.


	7. In which Agatha fights back

                  Shouts from the Geisterdamen echoed through the halls as they continued their search for Anevka. Zeetha walked the same halls, her arms full of all sorts of components, her mind wandering dangerously.

                  Thank Ashtara above that she had been ordered to go with Agatha. That Agatha had been able to work out what Skifandias meant. Had her first confirmation of Skifander’s existence come from Lucrezia, well… she liked to think she wouldn’t be that desperate.

                  That lead to a whole other problem though, Lucrezia knew about Skifander. She likely knew where it was. She was a crazy enslaver with thousands of wasps at her aid. When she was done with Europa, who knew where she would go next. Skifander was in danger, and only she knew about it.

                  And she was pretty much back at square one.

                  Zeetha paused in her steps and took a deep breath, before continuing on with a glare.

                  No. No she wasn’t. She knew Skifander existed, knew for sure, had accepted it. That wasn’t square one.

                  She was the only person who could protect Skifander now; she just had to figure out how. And she had to do it before she was wasped. Zeetha took another deep breath and shouldered the door to the lab open.

                  To believe that The Crazy Woman from her mother’s story about how she met her father, the one who acted stupidly jealous of her mother’s attraction to him, and the one who shipped him naked to Skifander when she gotten bonded to another. That The Crazy Woman was the same as The Other… Zeetha shook her head.

                  Then with a start Zeetha realized that Lucrezia must have known her father, known Chump. Wow. It had been a long time since she had thought of him. The who’s, where’s, and why’s of her father had long since become unimportant compared to her current reality. Ironic really, the reason she was here in the first place now hardly mattered.

                  Zeetha shook that thought from her head and looked up. Then blinked. Tarvek stood before her, _hugging_ Lucrezia, who was _humming_ , and he didn’t look uncomfortable like he would if she was making him. “… Minu?”

                  The two in front of her broke apart. They both looked exhausted. “Zeetha!” Lucrezia— no… wait, her body language was all wrong…

                  Tarvek grinned tiredly, “Agatha is back,” he explained. Zeetha’s eyes widened and she stared at Agatha who fidgeted.

                  “I doubt for long,” she admitted.

                  “But I have an idea.” She pulled something from under her shirt, a strange pocket watch looking creature that blinked around the room, and then grabbed a screwdriver. Zeetha walked closer carefully, depositing the abandoned components on a worktable, and sharing a glance with Tarvek.

                  Agatha’s knees shook, and both Tarvek and Zeetha reached out to steady her. “Here, lean on—”Tarvek paused catching Zeetha’s raised eyebrows, “—lean on us.” Agatha nodded half distracted with her work, a ‘thank you’ under her breath. Tarvek was amazed as he watched her. “What are you doing?”

                  She didn’t answer, long enough that Zeetha was beginning to expect that she was too far gone to do so, and then “I don’t trust you.” Zeetha wasn’t surprised at that, after hearing how her treatment in the Baron’s care, and even her treatment by Gil, it wasn’t strange for her to be careful with her trust. Not to mention the fact Tarvek was not in a trustworthy position at all. What did surprise her was the look that passed over Tarvek’s face as he took in her words. He looked almost sad.

                  “Can’t say I blame you,” he admitted looking away. It was quite again.

                  “You’re working for The Other, aren’t you?” Agatha whispered. Tarvek shifted.

                  “I’d hardly be alive or free if I wasn’t,” he stated, then paused looking uncomfortable. In a low whisper he elaborated, “If I can learn what she is doing, I can learn how to reverse it. You must believe me… it might be the only way she can be stopped.”

                  Another pause, a sigh, “I _wish_ I could trust you.”

                  “You can,” he muttered, his voice sounding far from sincere, as if he doubted it himself. Agatha snapped the casing on her little clank closed and set it down.

                  Looking up at Tarvek she said, “We’ll see.” And then she looked down at the clank. “Go on you.” The clank saluted and rushed off.

                  “Wait,” Tarvek yelped in surprise as he made a halfhearted attempt at catching it. “What did you just do?” Agatha sagged in his and Zeetha’s arms, and a grin oozed across her face.

                  “Now _you’ll_ have to trust _me_ ,” she yawned. Tarvek grasped her out of Zeetha’s arms in a panic and shook her.

                  “NO! Don’t go to sleep,” he tried to order, but it was too late. Agatha let out a little snore, and then awoke. She blinked up at him, and then a leering smirk slithered across her face. “My, my, are you taking advantage of a _helpless_ lady,” she snipperd. Tarvek’s face went red and he almost dropped her.

                  “Of course not,” he stuttered. Lucrezia, since it must have been Lucrezia, nuzzled herself further into his arms, a delighted light in her eyes from Tarvek growing discomfort. “A pity.” Then more seriously she asked, “Have my Geisterdamen found you’re sister yet?”

                  Tarvek sighed and shared a helpless look with Zeetha, who grimaced in dismay.

 

                  Later that night, Tarvek slumped through the door of Tinka’s lab and collapsed into a chair next to Moxana. Zeetha followed at his heel, looking a bit tired herself, but much more awake than Tarvek who could only keep his head up by using his hands. “That woman is going to be the death of me,” he muttered to either Moxana or herself, she wasn’t sure. “I _need_ to get some sleep, the only reason she’s stopped working now is because I refused to make any more stimulants. I… I’m worried that she will ruin Aga—… eh… that body”

                  Zeetha grimaced in agreement from where she stood next to Tinka’s deactivated and bodiless head before turning her full attention to the poor clank. She reached out and rested a hand on the head and sighed. She had no idea that the damage was so bad, or if Tinka could be fixed, even with those notes Moxana had brought back with her. It hurt to see her friend like this, and yes Tinka was her friend, perhaps her only one in this place. Considering the circumstances, Tarvek really didn’t count. And the dance lessons they had shared had been most of the fun she has had in the last three years.

                  She sighed and gave Tinka one last pat, before turning back to Tarvek as he began to speak, only to find Moxana staring at her. Zeetha shifted and diverted her eyes to Tarvek’s face, or at least what she could see of it in his slumped over form.

                  “The Lady Lucrezia, the real one, she is _just_ too dangerous… And she has almost finished her machine… I should have killed her when I had my chance.” He rubbed a long hand over his face, while Zeetha winced at his statement, but had to admit he was probably right.

                  Tarvek turned towards Moxana and asked, “This _will_ work, won’t it?” Moxana looked at him calmly, and then smoothly she fanned out a deck of cards faced down, and gestured at Tarvek to take one. While Tarvek was distracted by his card (XXX: The Whirlwind: Great power and great risk, Beware things underground, Make a new friends, or even Learn some new music.), she carefully plucked up her own card, and held it out in Zeetha’s direction.

                  Zeetha blinked and pointed at herself, and at the clank’s nod stepped forward and carefully took the card. She turned it over and on it, it read “The Partners.” Its picture was simply two arms, one coming from each side, grasping each other on the forearm, a glowing thread wrapping around them both.

                  Zeetha glanced up at Moxana who stared implacably back. Moxana was very different from Tinka, Zeetha wasn’t even sure if Moxana even had the same range of facial expressions as Tinka. She certainly couldn’t move herself. Honestly she though Van Rijn was rather cruel to make a sentient being that could neither move on her own, nor emote. And yet…

                  Zeetha took another step closer as she looked back down at the card. It was obvious that the cards were Moxana’s way of speaking, but what—

                  Zeetha’s head shot up as a cold hand grasped her forearm. Moxana was still staring at her, but suddenly the stare didn’t seem cold or even emotionless, though it hadn’t really changed, at least not in a way that Zeetha could describe. With one last look down at the card Zeetha understood, and she grasped Moxana’s arm in the same way. They were like that only for a moment, and then they let go, Zeetha handing back the card.

                  “Thank you,” that was what Moxana was trying to tell her. Thank you for looking after my sister.

                  And as Zeetha stepped back, she quietly whispered, “Ni ala.”

                  Tarvek finished off his analysis of his own card. Zeetha highly doubted he had missed her and Moxana’s little show, but instead had stalled to give them time. With a sigh he flipped the card back onto Moxana’s table, and put his head in his hands. “Thank you oh Muse of Mystery,” he muttered into his hands. “I guess I’ll just have to—”

                  He stopped and Zeetha knew why. For from out in the hall came the sound of music, and it was getting closer. Slowly she approached the door, bodyguard instincts that had been forced upon her kicking in.

                  And then, around the corner, in a flowing tide of light and music came a swarm of small clanks, very similar to the one Agatha had sent off hours ago. And with them, her feet obscured by the clanks themselves, came Agatha. And, to be honest, she looked down right horrible. Zeetha took a few steps forward in fear that she would collapse, only to hesitate at the edge of the clanks. Agatha glanced at her briefly before continuing on to Tarvek. Zeetha watched her go, conflicted.

                  “Your little clanks,” Tarvek gasped, having finally drawn his gaze away from Agatha and down to her feet. “Their reproducing the Heterodyne music, amazing.” He paused, cocking his head to one side to listen. All the while Agatha shambled closer. “Though it doesn’t sound exactly the same, understand—glurk!” Tarvek was cut off by Agatha grabbing him by the collar and forcing him to look her in the eye.

                  Zeetha jumped forward, unsure on what to do. Shifting her weight she watched and hoped Tarvek wasn’t about to be killed. She didn’t want to be alone here.

                  Zeetha could see the exact moment Tarvek realized just how bad a shape Agatha was in. “She is winning,” Agatha gasped. “I _need_ your lab, Now!”

                  Tarvek nodded helplessly, “Of course! Will this lab suffice or do you need another?” Agatha blinked at him, and then let him go to glance around the lab.

                  “It’ll work,” she confirmed with some strain, her eye catching on several components and tools scattered across the room. “But I need…”

                  She turned to Tarvek and rattled off a list of supplies. He nodded and quickly left the room, leaving Zeetha alone with Agatha, who collapsed into the chair and buried her hand into her hair. The clanks scattering around her feet, and climbing up onto her lap, the tables, one even jumped onto Moxana, who glanced at it blankly.

                  Zeetha approached the exhausted and quite obviously terrified girl. Hesitantly she placed a hand on her shoulder. Agatha glanced up at her with a small, but thankful smile. Zeetha’s shoulders relaxed. Agatha sighed.

                  “I’m glad you’re alright,” she told Zeetha as she looked back down at her hands. The two stood there in silence for a moment, before she began again. “I can feel her, in the back of my skull.” She confessed to her. “I’m fighting, but I don’t know how long I can. It’s only working now because I’m exhausted and because of the clanks, but that’s making it hard for me as well.” She yawned and grimaced. “I only just learned she was my mother, and now all this…” she trailed off. Zeetha gazed down at her softly and rubbed her shoulder.

                  “And I’m alone,” she admitted. “Tarvek told me I could trust him but…” she trailed off, and then looked up at Zeetha. “What do you think?” Zeetha frowned. Trust Tarvek? In this situation, with wasps and Lucrezia, and the possible destruction of another girl, one he was rapidly getting attached to. But how to explain…

                  Zeetha held up a hand, her thumb and pointer finger only a little bit apart. Agatha deflated and looked away. “Only a little bit…”

                  Zeetha grasped onto Agatha’s arm, and Agatha looked up to her in surprise. Zeetha shook her head roughly, then mimed a flipping motion with her other hand. Agatha stared at it. “So you do trust him?” she guessed. Zeetha made a half shrug half nodding motion, the closest she had to a mostly. Agatha looked pensive.

                  That’s when Tarvek returned. “Here I have all that you asked for,” he said over his stuffed arms. He paused for just a moment, looking down at what he had gathered. “Err, what are you going to do with this?”

                  Agatha grimaced but looked determined as she got up from the chair, “The only thing I _can_ do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ni Ala -Slang, translates to roughly "No Thanks Necessary."


	8. In which people make plans

                Agatha wiped some sweat from her brow and fell back into the chair. “There it’s done,” she said.

                Zeetha glanced up at the tall device. It was covered in tubes, bells, whistles, horns, and lenses. Around its base was a swarm of Agatha’s little clanks tightening screws and polishing the brass. Tarvek also glanced up at it before looking down at Agatha.

                “Great. _Now_ are you going to tell me what you’re going to _do_ with it?”

                Agatha waved a hand wearily. “I’m going to _expose_ her, of course. If no one knows that The Other is back, if she manages to hide what your father was doing here, she could enslave most of Europa before anyone’s the wiser. Then it would have been too late.” Zeetha turned away uncomfortable. From some of the things she had overheard, a disturbing large part of Europa was already wasped.

                Tarvek looked uneasy, “But wait—”

                Agatha didn’t let him start, “You said your innocent? Well this would be a good way to prove it. Even if you had told the Baron that you’re father’s death had been a lab accident, I’m sure he will still send a Questor.

                “Now I imagine enslaving a Questor would be quite advantageous thing to do, if she could. She’d have a powerful puppet with access to the Baron, and be in a position to take the Empire.”

                Tarvek nodded, “I… believe that’s the idea yes.”

                Agatha gave him a faint glare and shook her head, “And what kind of place do you think she’ll make it.” Tarvek looked away, while Agatha patted her device. “I can use this to alert the Baron’s Questor about what’s happening before he lands.” She frowned. “It’s chancy, we still need to find a way to get it to the roof without the Geisterdamen noticing, and make sure it’s set off at just the right time, but it’s all I can do.”

                Tarvek looked troubled, “But you’re supposed to be hiding from the Baron, once he knows you’re here he’ll see to it that you’re taken, he’ll lock you in a lab—”

                “Good,” Agatha declared vehemently. “Maybe he can find a way to get her out of my head. Yes, maybe he’ll just kill me, but The Other certainly will, along with a whole bunch of other people. I have the upper hand now, but I told you, it won’t last. I have to stop her, I have too.”

                She glanced down, hand tangled in her hair, “I can… feel her… even now. You have no idea… how alien her thoughts are. She’s terribly mad. Stopping her… that’s worth giving myself up to the Baron… don’t you think.”

                Tarvek gaped at her for a moment, while Zeetha stared at the ground, and wrapped her arms tightly to her chest. She wasn’t wrong, as much as Zeetha hated to admit it, she wasn’t wrong.

                “No.”

                Zeetha looked up at the whispered word and grimaced as she saw Tarvek’s face fall from wonder to desperation. The problem with Tarvek, Zeetha found, was that as much as he talked about how sacrifice was necessary, if it wasn’t him being sacrificed, he couldn’t go through it. Not with his father, not with Anevka, not with Agatha, no one.“No!” This time it echoed throughout the lab. Zeetha winced and glanced at the door, half expecting a pack of Geisterdamen to come rushing through. “No I won’t allow this.”

                He pulled Agatha up from her chair. “You’re still here. She hasn’t won yet!”

                “Tarvek I don’t even understand how she did this to me! It might be different if I had time to work on the problem, but I don’t!” Agatha shook her head. “I’ve examined her machine. It’s more advanced than anything I have ever seen. I don’t even know where to start. I might be a Spark, but I’m still a student, for goodness sake!”

                Tarvek pinched his gasses off his face, and rubbed at them with a sleeve. “All right. Listen. I’ve actually had a lot of time to study it, and there are still parts of it that are beyond me. You’re not stupid; it’s just that your mother has achieved a level of technology we haven’t seen before. That said, and it took a while, but I do understand parts of it, and the more I picked the Other’s brain the more I understand.

                “The truth is, Anevka and I, we had a plan. It’s why we were trying to duplicate the Other’s command voice. But we never expected Father’s ‘Lucrezia’ to come back!”

                Agatha wobbled slightly and a vague look crossed her face, which both Tarvek and Zeetha, who was warily watching him fall into the madness place, failed to notice before he enfolded her into his arms. “I won’t let her ruin everything!” he declared vehemently. “And I won’t let her destroy you. To find you, out of nowhere— It’s too perfect. Wulfenbach is a usurper— His Empire won’t last a day once he’s gone!”

                Zeetha glared at him. His voice had taken on the noticeable sparky tint, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t making a fool out of himself. She shook her head in exasperation, but didn’t do anything since Agatha wasn’t making a fuss— wait… Zeetha started as she realized Agatha’s body language had once again shifted, and that under the power of Tarvek gloat she was chuckling.

                “With The Other’s technology, and you by my side, I’ll re-establish the rule of the Storm King. We’ll bring real stability to Europa! You must not give up!”

                Tarvek suddenly stopped, the light chuckles finally reaching his ears. He froze as Lucrezia flowed sensuously out of his embrace and regarded him with amusement.

                “My, my,” she simpered. “You are an ambitious one aren’t you?” She stretched slowly, and smirked in pleasure as she heard Tarvek’s breathing quicken. “So you want Klaus’ little Empire _and_ this girl, do you?”

She made a show of examining herself. “Yessss…of course you do.” She smiled devilishly at him. “Well I don’t mind. In fact, this could turn out even better than I’d thought, with…” She shucked her shirt, leaving her only in her chemises. “…benefits to everyone.” She smiled again. “Shall we make a deal.”

                Tarvek forcibly kept his gaze on her face and swallowed heavily, before smiling. A smile Zeetha could only just tell was forced. “A deal? What do you have in mind?”

                Lucrezia tapped a finger to her cheek in mock thought. “Klaus’ little empire, I see no reason why you can’t run it,” she smirked and looked him in the eye, “Under _me_ of course, I have no desire of stopping their after all.” Zeetha winced, she had been afraid of that. “Perhaps I’ll even throw in Paris,” she teased with a swish of her hips as she turned away. “You can hardly be a _proper_ Strom King without your Palace of Enlightenment after all.”

                “Yes, yes it works out so well,” she said turning back to him. “You get to be Strom King and I don’t have to be held down with such trivial duties such as empire management.” She smiled at him, a leering, mocking smile. “Of course I expect loyalty,” she continued, “one way or another.” Tarvek swallowed.

                “As for this girl, well that’s how the old story goes, a Heterodyne Daughter and her loyal Storm King, dose it not.” She smiled. Zeetha blanched at the implications of her words, looking at Lucrezia with horror. “I’m sure… things could be arranged… you really aren’t that bad looking.” She mused. Tarvek paled

                “But on a more current note,” she said becoming slightly more serious. “I have a project for you. Your sister, she is a clank? She certainly wasn’t the last time I saw her.” Tarvek blinked, his face gaining some color.

                “Ah… mostly right. Father put her through your machine; it nearly killed her and would have if I hadn’t removed her brain. I placed her in a catafalque to keep her alive and made a puppet for her to control.”

                “Really,” she said looking grudgingly impressed. “Then I need you to make me another clank head, one that looks like your sister’s.”

                Now Tarvek was completely lost. “Why?”

                “Why? To download another _me_ of course!”

                Tarvek outright balked, while Zeetha sucked in a small shot of air. “Another you, but how? You have already been downloaded into—” Lucrezia waved her hand lazily.

                “The Summoning Engine doesn’t transport me form one location to another,” she explained, looking rather proud. “It transports a… let’s call it blueprint, of me. There can be any number of I’s should I wish it. Why else do you think I was fixing the Summoning Engine?” Tarvek could do nothing but stare dumbly at her.

                Lucrezia sighed, “Your father really did a number on it, it is a miracle that it worked at all, even with the prepared host. Though I suppose I can’t blame him, I’ve come to see that I have far outpaced current technology, much more than I had originally thought. It’s a good thing I will be following it out; I’ll be there to supervise its rebuilding. Even now it’s not quite fixed.

                “But once it’s fixed it should work on any female,” she continued to Tarvek and Zeetha’s horror. “Probably on any male as well, but no, I wouldn’t wish to _force_ upon such a thing on _myself_.”

                Zeetha’s eyes fell to the floor, a sudden realization flowing over her. If Lucrezia’s machine could create multiple copies, then… what happened to Anevka? Was it a complete failure, or perhaps… perhaps Anevka didn’t just go mad from being separated from her body, but because a whole separate mind was fighting hers. A mind that then could have been copied over by the clank. Zeetha blinked and wondered. Just how much of Clank Anevka was from Anevka, and how much was from Lucrezia?

                Tarvek pulled himself together long enough to stutter, “but… but organic to organic is one thing, but _surely_ organic to mechanical would—”

                “Oh don’t worry about that,” Lucrezia breezed away. “I’ve experimented with it before. It’s tricky but doable.” Tarvek looked rather pale, except for where he was turning a tinge of green.

                “Ah,” was all he could say.

                Lucrezia clapped her hands, “Good, then it’s decided!” Tarvek looked like he very much wanted to remind her that he never agreed to anything, but kept his mouth shut. “Now on to other subjects.” She turned to Agatha’s device. “What is this?”

                Tarvek took a deep breath through his nose and turned to look at it himself, “I’m not entirely sure,” he told Lucrezia. “Your daughter didn’t trust me enough to tell me fully. All I know is that it’s supposed to send out a recording, and needs to get to the roof.” Lucrezia humped, and barely gave it a second look before turning away.

                “An amusing toy,” she told Tarvek. “But I really am going to have to do something about that girl.” She frowned. “Has she finished it?”

                Tarvek shook his head, “No, or well yes, but she hasn’t recorded the message yet.”

                Lucrezia let out a low hum. Tarvek hesitated.

                “If I may make a suggestion, I have heard some of what she wishes to say,” Zeetha glanced at him, Agatha had said nothing of the sort. “If you would let her finish, I could make sure it was harmless to you, perhaps even to our benefit.”

                Lucrezia glanced at him dully, “To _our_ benefit you say, and why should I trust _you_.”

                Tarvek smiled a disturbing sincere smile. “Why should I betray you when you just offered me everything I want. That’s more than anyone, including my father, has ever done”

                Lucrezia stared at him, before letting a pleased grin spread across her face. “Well I suppose so. You know I could act for you, you’ll just have to tell me what to say.” Tarvek’s smile became a bit more forced. Lucrezia continued on. “Though I suppose you did say she didn’t trust you. I can see how that might get a bit annoying in the future, so perhaps… Yes I suppose I could let her ‘win’ once.” Tarvek let out a quite sigh of relief as Lucrezia turned.

                “And now for you,” Lucrezia said with a smile, her eyes landing on Zeetha who froze. Slowly she walked over to the corner Zeetha had placed herself in. Tarvek half raised a hand to stop her, before hesitating and then dropping it. “You were helping the girl too weren’t you,” she continued. Zeetha managed to keep her face blank even though all she wanted to do was lean away from her examining stare. “Naughty, naughty.”

                She reached out and Zeetha tensed, leaning her head back. With one finger Lucrezia caught the edge of the shock collar and slowly raised it as Zeetha swallowed thickly. Her neck stung as the metal chafed against her still fresh burn.

                Lucrezia tsked as she considered the burn. Then she flicked it. Zeetha flinched back a step and instinctively raised a hand to cover her throat.

                “Take that as a warning,” Lucrezia informed her evenly. “I have no wish to damage you permanently but make no mistake if you do something like this again…” She trailed off purposely and Zeetha looked down, her hands fisting in her pants to keep from doing anything rash. Lucrezia stepped away in a twirl

                “I have plans for you after all,” she continued. Zeetha’s eye’s darted from the ground, to the back of Lucrezia’s head, and then back to the ground. Her teeth clenched painfully.

                Lucrezia stepped to the door and opened it, and with a single call Vrin was bowing before her, now clad in the typical Geisterdamen garments, save for a golden neckless adorning her neck. Zeetha expected she had been loitering nearby, suspicious of Tarvek.

                “The girl has been fighting back,” she told the Priestess plainly, to the Priestess surprise, and Tarvek’s dismay. “But I have it under control. That said I have decided to allow the girl to finish her little project…” She glanced over to the machine as did Vrin. “I will be allowing her to take over in several hours, once I have finished up on my machine.”

                “No Mistress—“Vrin started only to stop from Lucrezia’s wave.

                “It will only be temporary,” she sighed as she assured the Priestess. “Tarvek here will be helping the girl, and it will be his job to destroy her retched humming machines once she is done.” Vrin didn’t look the slightest bit happy at that. “Your job is to continue keeping watch for Klaus’ little Questor and to inform him should you see it.” Suddenly she smirked, “That is when he will destroy the machines and should he fail to destroy them, it will be up to you to do so.” She waved over to a couple of dingbots who were failing to hide behind a chair, and still desperately singing.

                Vrin seemed much happier at that news and bowed out of the room. Lucrezia walked back over to Tarvek with a smirk and a sway of her hips. “There we go everything is settled,” she told him. “But first, I really do need to finish up my Summoning Engine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a pain to write, mostly through trying to figure out why Lucrezia would allow Agatha to finish her machine, and why she hadn't destroyed the dingbots when she caught Tarvek. I think what I came up with works but I definitely don't assume that this is what happened in canon.


	9. In which Tarvek sleeps

              Lucrezia was off elsewhere, speaking with her Geisterdamen and supervising the dismantling of her Summoning Engine, as well as the rest of her machines, for travel. Throughout the entirety of helping Lucrezia on her engine Tarvek had been quite, doing as he was told almost robotically, until even Lucrezia had noticed and sent him off to bed.

              A quick check of his rooms proved he never made it that far.

              Instead Zeetha found him collapsed in one of his hidden labs, one arm over his eyes the other holding his jacket tightly against him. He must have been sleeping, but he jumped awake at the sound of her nearly silent footsteps. He blinked wearily at her, and then collapsed back into his chair. “If she keeps this up I may actually _die_ ,” he told her in a groan.

              Zeetha patted his shoulder in sympathy, she didn’t need to sleep anywhere near as much as he did, and yet she was already starting to feel a strain. Granted she had been awake longer than him as well, two days before this mess had all began she had been out looking for that dratted Spark Wasp. But that had to wait.

              Perching herself on a cleared worktable she stared at him. After a moment Tarvek sighed. “The machine is done,” he told her. “Even if we were to kill her now, the Geisterdamen would simply kill us and take it away to make a new host for her.” He slumped in his chair and supported his head with one hand. “I should have done it earlier, but I thought…” he trailed off in another sigh. “And she already has an army at her disposal.”

              Zeetha tried to think of some kind of good news, a flaw in Lucrezia’s plan, or something she could do to turn this evening around, but nothing came to her. She grunted in annoyance.

              “Now she wants to pretend to be my sister,” He whispered, the slightest bit of worry and fear lacing his voice. If Lucrezia insisted on pretending to be Anevka, then the real Anevka would have to be taken care of. He stared at a wall for a long moment before shaking his head. As if his mind had started down a path he didn’t want to finish. “And I have already been caught once going against her,” he added with some resignation, allowing his head to lull back and his eyes to close.

              Zeetha thought back on that moment and rolled her eyes. To be honest, Zeetha thought Tarvek was lucky Agatha hadn’t heard his little rant, Spark driven or not. It would have done nothing to help boost Agatha’s little trust in him. Granted Lucrezia hearing it wasn’t a good thing either. It was a stupid thing to do all around.

              “Once she is in position as my sister I won’t be as useful for her. Obviously she expects me to come with her to wherever she has ordered the Geisterdamen too; she can’t rule Stumhulten with me here.”

              He snorted humorlessly, “The only good news I can think of is they probably won’t risk wasping the Questor anymore, not with her trying to stay hidden that she is back, not with her evacuating all the Wasp Hives. It would be too much of a risk for her cover here.”

              Zeetha glanced at the ceiling. She supposed that was good news, It didn’t make her feel any better though.

              “I would think she would keep you here, you are not completely unknown as Anevka’s bodyguard,” he mused. “So that may save you from being wasped, at least for a little while.” He frowned. “Though theses ‘plans’ she has for you puts that into question, I don’t suppose you have any idea what they may be.”

              Zeetha shrugged. She suspected it had something to do with Skifander. Possibly Lucrezia wished to try and use her against her mother. But surely she couldn’t know Queen Zantabraxus was her mother. The last time she could have gotten a chance to meet her she had been childless, and Zeetha had many cousins. Being a War Princess couldn’t make her obliviously the Queens daughter. Not if she knew enough on Skifander to speak even broken Skiff.

              To be honest she just didn’t know, and that scared her to her marrow.

              “We may have to tell her about your proximity trigger,” he sighed. “Else things could get… messy.” Zeetha winched at the thought. Her neck already hurt enough.

              It was quite for a long while, long enough that if not for the crink in Tarvek’s brows, the one he always got when he was desperately planning, she would have sworn he was asleep. He should be asleep. She should really make him go to sleep, as hard as that would be in a house full of enemies.

              Tarvek opened his eyes and tried to pull himself up out of his chair only to collapse back into it as Zeetha kicked his legs out from under him. He blinked up at the ceiling as if he was having a hard time conceptualizing what just happened. “What—?”

              Zeetha snatched his spectacles from his nose and covered his eyes with her other hand.

              “Zeetha!”

              “Shhh,” she ordered, taking her hand away and settling back down at the worktable, giving him a look that just dared him to try and retrieve his glasses from where she twirled them in her hand. A look she couldn’t be sure he even saw considering the squint he had as he focused in on her. If he couldn’t sleep alone, he would have to deal with sleeping with a bodyguard. He groaned.

              “Fine,” he yawned, his arm coming up to cover his eyes again, “But… but not to… to long I need to get… that head started—” and with that he was snoring. Zeetha rolled her eyes, shifted to get comfortable and forced a yawn of her own back.

              Tarvek didn’t sleep long, or restfully, his dreams quite obliviously full of nightmares. He awoke in a cold sweat an hour and a half later, his one hand reaching desperately for his glasses. Zeetha peered at him with half hidden concerned from across the room and leapt off the table to hand them back.

              He swallowed heavily a few times, his eyes darting around the room before focusing on Zeetha. He stared at her for just a second too long to be comfortable before shaking his head and forcing himself up. “I have to get started on that head.”

              Zeetha sighed, nodded, and followed Tarvek out of the room.

 

              The first thing Zeetha did during the calm moment that assured as Tarvek brought the newly constructed head to Lucrezia was to move Tinka and Moxana away from Tarvek’s lab. It was sheer luck Lucrezia hadn’t spotted the muses earlier, to busy manipulating the two of them to do so.

              Instead she quietly hid them in Tarvek’s secret lab, the one that held the map that showcased the hunt for the Spark wasp. She hesitated at the door out. She had listened to Tarvek blabber on about the different Muses multiple times, and because of that she knows that it was said that they could see into the future.

              Moxana had been watching her for the entire move but had yet to offer her another card. For a second Zeetha was tempted to ask her: If things were going to be alright? If she was getting out of this alive? If she would ever see Skifander again? Instead she shook her head fiercely and walked out the door. She would hold on to Tinka’s “better soon.” If only for her sanity and what remained of her sense of safety.

              She met up with Tarvek in the hall, a dress in his arms. It looked neither practical nor anything like the dresses she had seen other Europa ladies wear. So in such she gave him an incredulous look as he explained it was to replace Agatha’s underwear of which she had refused to record in. She was pretty sure the dress covered less skin than her underwear, but what did she know about Europa fashion or clothing sensibilities.

              Agatha was leaning against a closed window frame when they entered the room. Zeetha stared at the ground as Agatha turned and spotted her. The knowledge that Agatha was only here because Lucrezia had let her take control again made her stomach cramp uncomfortably. Agatha had no idea, and she had no way of warning her. Not that it would do much good beyond destroying her hope.

              Tarvek turned away as Agatha changed and examined herself in the mirror. She made a quick face as she slid her hands down the sides of the dress. “Better than underwear I suppose,” she muttered just under her breath and turned back around.

              “Alright Tarvek you can turn around, let’s get this over with.”

              Zeetha backed away from Agatha as Tarvek began fiddling with the buttons on the machine. With a single deep breath, Agatha singled Tarvek and her little clanks, who gathered around her feet. They began to hum louder. Tarvek pushed a button and Agatha spread her arms wide and began her speech.

              “I am Agatha Heterodyne. Daughter of Bill Heterodyne and Lucrezia Mongfish. I have discovered that my mother was… is—The Other. Her servants have captured me. They’ve done something to me, and as a result, her mind is trying to take over my body. I can’t fight her off for much longer.”

              Zeetha watched in poorly disguised admiration. This was the woman who had given her, her home back. And now she was sacrificing herself for Europa. She was brave, far braver than anyone Zeetha had ever met.

              She owed Agatha her life, there had to be something she could do to repay her, to help her out of this. As brave as this plan was it was doomed to fail, Lucrezia would not be in Stumhulten by the time news got back to the Baron, not the one in Agatha’s body.

              There had to be something she could do.

              “Her forces have taken the castle at Stumhulten. Prince Tarvek is helping me. Tell Baron Wulfenbach, tell everyone. Someone needs to stop her. Please, I need help, I can’t do this alone. She cannot be allowed to destroy Europa once again. She has to be stopped!” With a small movement of her hands Tarvek pushed another button and she was done.

              “How was that?” She asked the two. Zeetha gave a small nod from her corner.

              “I think that’ll be perfect,” Tarvek said with satisfaction. “Let’s see how it looks.”

              “No!” Agatha stopped him. Zeetha jumped and looked at her strangely. “Some of the connections are delicate. I don’t know how many times it will work.”

              Tarvek frowned. “True, you did slap it together pretty fast. But we should have time to go in and –”

              The door slammed open and Vrin appeared. When she saw the two of them she bowed to Agatha. “Mistress! The sentries have sighted an airship!”

              Tarvek sucked in a breath with a hiss and checked his pocket watch. “Blue fire! The Baron’s man made _very_ good time.” Zeetha grimaced; Lucrezia had only given them until the Baron’s man was sighted. They had expected more time.

              Vrin continued. “They said that it looked like it was coming down on the southeast side of town.”

              Tarvek nodded. “Caravan field. Fire and oil! The circus is still there.”

              Agatha looked surprised. “I’d thought they would have left by now.”

              Vrin ignored them. “It was a strange airship as well. Small and very fast. It looked like a giant bird!”

              Agatha’s eyes went wide; obliviously something about the airship’s description was familiar to her. Quickly she patted her device. “We got to get this to the roof now.” She ordered with sudden extra urgency.

              Tarvek hesitated. From across the room his and Zeetha’s eyes caught. Tarvek hand reached into his jacket and Zeetha forced herself to look away. Gently Agatha touched his arm.

              “Tarvek it’s time.” Zeetha shook her head. If Vrin didn’t already know…

              Tarvek turned to her, an ill look on his face. In his hand was a small device. “Yes,” he muttered. “I’m afraid it is.”

              He depressed a switch and a small blue light flashed from the device. As one all of Agatha’s little clanks sparked and froze before then toppling over. The hum that had been underlying the room vanished. For a second it was eerily quiet.

              Agatha whirled. “What have you done,” She screamed at a slumped Tarvek who didn’t respond. “Not now! I knew I couldn’t trust you! I—” She gave a violent shudder and Lucrezia blinked, and then smiled.

              “Ah! Tarvek is it time?”

              The young man straightened, nodded, and indicated to the priestess. “Yes my lady. Vrin says that an airship has been spotted, and most likely it is the Baron’s Questor.”

              Lucrezia clapped her hands. “Excellent! Then we can—” She glanced down as she realized what she was wearing, a rather diaphanous gown that, stylistically, owed a lot to the Moravian artist, Alfons Mucha. Who had never been one to think woman should be covered from head to toe.

              Lucrezia took a deep breath and indicated the outfit, “Tarvek… _dear_ … what is this?”

              He grinned self-consciously. “Do you like it? Agatha was uncomfortable in just her underwear and wanted some clothes. It’s an old Harvest Festival outfit that I designed for Anevka.

              “Now I myself never deemed the art nouveau style suited for Anevka, but the theme of the festival…” he stuttered to a stop as he realized that Lucrezia, Vrin, and Zeetha were staring at him with disbelieving looks. Zeetha blinked at him and tried to believe that this was all to get Lucrezia to underestimate him more, but the boxes full of clothing designs back in his lab made that rather difficult.

              Lucrezia smiled gently, a look that made Zeetha feel incredibly uncomfortable to see come from her, and patted him on his head. “It’s lovely dear. But now I’m going to change into something a _teensy_ bit more practical.”

              She turned away and Tarvek let out a silent breath. Lucrezia paused and looked back over her shoulder. “But we can play dolly ‘dress-up’ later if you’d like.”

              She moved off giggling, Vrin following her like a puppy. Tarvek gritted his teeth, swallowing down his annoyance as he turned back to Agatha’s machine. The modifications he had planned shouldn’t take much—

              A hand snatched out and grasped his just short from pressing a button. Tarvek followed the grip, to the arm, and eventually up to Zeetha’s face. She looked madder than he had ever seen her, even back in the file room when he had been briefly tempted to wasp The Baron.

              The two stared at each other for a moment, Tarvek's wrist aching from Zeetha’s grip. He hadn’t realized she was so strong.

              “You realize,” Tarvek tried. “What will happen to us should Lucrezia learn that this message got out?” Zeetha blinked at him, not having thought of that. Still she did not let go of his wrist. “We can’t help her is we’re dead!

              “We can’t put it on the roof, we have already been forbidden, the Geisterdamen will look for it, destroy it if they find it.” He hesitated. “The copy of Lucrezia that will be placed in the clank head, she will be here to see it, and she will send word. If I… tweak the message a bit, make it so she doesn’t tell the world she’s The Other, make it so she says the… Baron is, then people will know that The Other is back without Lucrezia killing us.”

              But also making it so that Agatha would never be able to go to the Baron for help. Zeetha glared and twisted her hand. Tarvek winching as his wrist was put into a very uncomfortable position.

              “Is it worth it,” Zeetha said without thinking, her words choppy and hoarse. Tarvek stared at her, his jaw slacked. Zeetha blinked at him before what she just said dawned on her.

              “Did you just…?”

              “Kar,” Zeetha replied, then stopped took a deep breath and tried again. “…Yes.” The world came out strange as if she was pronouncing it with an unknown accent, just slightly off. She stared confusedly at Tarvek before catching herself and shaking Tarvek’s wrist again.  “Is it worth it—ah—will be worth it?”

              Tarvek continued to stare at her, then down at his wrist. With a jerk on his hand he broke her grip and paced away. “Fine, fine… I…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “…We can’t put it on the roof, Lucrezia has told us directly not too, it will be destroyed if we do. The only chance Agatha has is for us to leave it here and hope the Questor gets a chance to see it during his snooping. Even then, with Lucrezia posing as my sister she’ll likely be there. I don’t see how this is going to work without all of us dead, including the Questor, including Agatha…”

              He sat down heavily into the chair, his hands covering his face, as Zeetha stared at him silently.


	10. In which Zeetha and Tarvek do SCIENCE!

            After that the two of them separated again. Tarvek was supposed to be getting more sleep, though Zeetha doubted he actually would, while Zeetha headed to the kitchen, which was disturbingly barren. By this point all the servants in the castle had been herded into the dungeons below, to be dealt with later. They were all wasped so Zeetha didn’t think they would be killed, but it did make the castle feel eerily.

            She snatched up some food, knowing that if she didn’t keep eating she wouldn’t stay awake, and went off to find Tarvek. He wasn’t in any of his public labs, or with Lucrezia, who had ventured down under to talk with her Geisterdamen, but not before ordered both of them to stay upstairs.

            She instead found him in the lab with the map, using a cloth to rub away all of the marks they had made for their search of The Spark Wasp, Moxana watching him from next to the table.He spoke as she came up behind him. “I have it. It was in Father’s office as expected,” he told her. “And I’m giving it to Lucrezia.”

            Zeetha slapped him upside the head.

            “Ow! Stop that,” he complained, grabbing her arm as he turned. Zeetha glared murderously. “And don’t _look_ at me like that, it’s not like I’m giving her something she can’t already _do_.”

            Zeetha jerked her wrist from Tarvek’s grasp but refrained from hitting him again, instead letting out a question in a growl, “huh?”

            Tarvek sighed and wandered over to one of his cabinets, opening it and scanning over the multiple vials of chemical found within. “When Lucrezia first came to The Order for help, back when she was desperate for funding and resources, one of the requirements The Order gave her for their aid was that the Wasps would not affect sparks.” He caught Zeetha’s look of confusion, she had heard quite a bit about the Fifty’s Families feelings about Sparks, so he elaborated as he plucked a few vials out.

            “When the Great Families began taking power away from the Fifty Families, several families had to intermarry with them just to survive, Sturmvoraus included, and because of the nature of the Spark they quickly became the leading powers in The Order, and as such issued the requirement.” He shrugged and placed a beaker along with the vials on the worktable. “A bit ironic I suppose, they went from barely surviving, to leading The Order.”

            “But I digress, the real point is that there is very little known to be stopping Lucrezia from inventing her own Spark Wasp beyond her word at this point, not with her tech and her Geisterdamen, and I doubt her word is worth much at all.”

            Zeetha had to agree, but Tarvek had already been caught working against Lucrezia once. This plan sounded like it was doomed for disaster. To make her point she pointed at him firmly, Tarvek grimaced and placed the beaker, now full of several chemicals, back on the table, and pulled a small orb out of his interior pocket of his jacket.

            “This,” he said, gesturing with the orb, “Was probably intended for me from the start. Father was never as oblivious to my helpless act as I would wish. I can see no other reason he would lock it away in his office instead of destroying it unless he had a use for it, and getting a chance to use it on The Baron is a pipe dream and Father would have known that. Had I made a nuisance of myself to The Orders plans I have no doubt that they would have used it on me. Or at least Father would have. The only reason they didn’t do so from the start is because they would have to depend on the Geisterdamen to control me, and not even Father trusted them fully.

            “I know what I’m risking here; I know who the wasp will be most likely used on once were out of this place and I’m suddenly much less useful, but I have a plan, and I’m not giving it to her until I know that plan is feasible.” Zeetha stared at him for a long moment after he stopped explaining, long enough that eventually he sighed and continued.

            “When I cracked the safe in Father’s office, I not only found the Spark Wasp, but also the surviving notes. From them I think that I have learned enough that I might be able to make a vaccine, not a _cure_ , not yet, but something that will make a wasp useless should it try and attack you after you have been vaccinated.” He placed the orb back in his pocket and continued fiddling with the chemicals. With a delayed start, Zeetha realized that whatever he was making was likely the vaccine. “I forgot the Silver of Vixonite can you grab me a vile, there should be some in the cabinet behind you.”

            Zeetha blinked at him, and then turned to the cabinet, scowling at the latin letters that swarmed in front of her. Picking two likely contenders she held them up for Tarvek to look at. He looked confused.

            “You can’t read,” he asked as if the answer should have been obvious. Zeetha glared and shook the vials in her hands slightly. He glanced down at the labels: Silver of Vixonite and Silver of Vikomight. “Can’t read well,” he amended plucking the right one from her hand. She rolled her eyes and returned the other.

            “Right you’re not from around here,” Tarvek continued as he measured a small dose of Silver of Vixonite. “Lucrezia said you are Skifanderian?” His voice trailed off as if he wasn’t sure what he was saying. Zeetha turned back to him with a single nod.

            Tarvek paused for a moment, a small scoop of some yellow powder hanging above the beaker. “And… are you really a Princess?” he finally asked as if he couldn’t help himself. Zeetha nodded with a tilt of her head. She was very much a Princess, though being a Princess of Skifander meant something very different than being a Princess in Europa.

            “Really?”

            Zeetha scowled and nodded more firmly. Tarvek got a strange look on his face, as if he was having a hard time fitting this fact in with what he knew of her. Or maybe it was the reality that a Princess could be brought so low to be stuck in a foreign castle with a shock collar around her neck. Either way Zeetha had little patience for his paradigm shift and turned way so she could lean heavily against the table. She found Moxana staring at her again, though this time she felt less uncomfortable. Zeetha raised her eyebrows in question but Moxana only blinked.

            “Er…alright,” he finally said. “Uh… can you pass me some Calixia oil, it’s in the blue bottle to your left there.”

            Zeetha swallowed some lingering irritation and passed the bottle over. He thanked her absentmindedly, poured in a drop, and stepped over to a table set apart from the rest. Upon it was a mess of glass beakers and tubes that Zeetha couldn’t make heads or tails of. He turned on a burner  and pulled on a lab coat with a frown.

            As he worked he continued on. “I’ve learned other things as well.” He said with some hesitance. “I’ve been trying to figure out how Lucrezia’s summoning engine worked since Agatha beat her back the first time, but it’s been proving… tricky.” He paused to tune a couple of valves and put the beaker of miscellaneous chemicals over the heat. “But I have _some_ ideas… but I need more _time_ … time we don’t _have_ here.”

            “But if I can get that time I am _sure_ I can get Lucrezia out of Agatha, Lucrezia out of _anyone!_ ” His voice took on a Spark tint and Zeetha’s head snapped up. “And to get that time I need Lucrezia’s trust, and if getting _wasped_ is the only way to get it, then _so be it_ ,” he declared as he pulled down a hose like thing and proceeded to shoot sparks into the beaker. Zeetha jumped right off the table, her face turning red as she realized what she had done.

            Tarvek turned to her, his face both stormy and manically grinning. In his hand the beaker barely contained a lightly glowing, spitting, purple liquid. Zeetha backed away as Tarvek strode past her towards a rack of empty vails, his movements jerky and wild, very much not like the Tarvek she was used to. He poured the liquid evenly into two vials, and then the next thing Zeetha knew one was shoved into her hand.

            “Bottom’s up.” he grinned at her, raising the vial as if for a toast.

            Zeetha stared at him, and as quickly as it appeared Tarvek maniacal grin was replaced by his normal serious look. “I _know_ what this looks like Zeetha but it’s your—, no _our_ , only chance. You might be saved from being wasped for a short while, but it won’t be for long, not at all.”

            Zeetha continued to stare, first at him and then at the vial she held in her hand. She had been a slave for nearly four years now, nearly every choice she had once had, had been ripped from her. She had a home out their somewhere, she knew that now, and it was in danger. Lucrezia knew about it.

            She had to do something, and if this killed her, well… it would be better than being wasped.

            Zeetha rose the vial, clinked it with Tarvek’s and as one the two downed the liquid.

            Zeetha had never once wondered what her brain would feel like if it were to melt, and now she would never have to. Her every nerve pulsated, not so much as in pain, than as if desperate to move. Everything around her was covered in a purple haze, which a glance at the glass sheet, proved to be because her eyes were glowing purple, along with the rest of her body. Zeetha looked up and found Tarvek in a similar state. He shuddered against the worktable his hands shaking even as he tried to write something down in his journal.

            He looked up, caught her glance, and tried to give a comforting grin, “Don’t w-worry this was e-expected—” And then he proceeded to collapse. Zeetha tried to grab him only to trip to her knees. Her arms struggled to keep her from falling completely as they shook down to the bone. It took several minutes before she could attempt to move again and by then the glow around them had faded away.

            Taking a deep breath Zeetha hauled herself to her feet. Every muscle in her body ached as if she had been exercising for four days straight. A sudden bought of lightheadness almost had her back to the ground, but she stayed up by sheer force of will. That too faded, and slowly Zeetha approached the collapsed Tarvek. Moxana, who had placed a metal hand on his head in concern, looked up at Zeetha as she approached. Zeetha raised a hand to check if Tarvek was still alive only for Tarvek to smack into it as he shot up.

            He blinked blearily and reached for his spectacles, “I’m— uh… going to have to work on those side effects,” he muttered rubbing at his head as he allowed himself to slide off the table and onto the floor, leaning his limp body against Moxana’s casing without thought.“Ow.”

            “Morat zur ni rikan mat ivar huri,”<Never drinking anything you give me ever again> Zeetha told him as she leaned heavily against the table. “Did it work?” She added in her accented Romanian. She blinked; pleasantly surprised it had come out right the first time.

            Tarvek didn’t say anything. Zeetha doubted he had even heard her, not with that dazed look on his face. Instead he blinked dully at the wall before finally letting out a sigh, “That went… mostly to plan. …Didn’t think I’d feel so exhausted, it was only supposed to affect the brain but…” he trailed off and reached up to pat at the top of the work table, looking for his journal. Zeetha pushed it toward the wandering hand with a frown.

            “Zur epit paniasaz minu?”<You did what to my brain?> she asked dully, not expecting an answer as he wrote something down. Once done with that, with a groan, he pulled himself to his feet.

            “There it is done. We are wasp proof,” he told her, then grimaced faintly, “Well probably.”

            Zeetha let her head fall back and sighed.


	11. In which Tarvek accepts reality

                “And this is the little Skifandrian I was telling you about,” Lucrezia told the clank head, who glanced at her with a disturbing amount of curiosity.

                “Is she _really_ one of Zantabraxus’ little warriors?” She asked.

                “I _imagine_ so.” Lucrezia paused. “Though I didn’t ask, for all I know Zantabraxus isn’t even the Queen anymore.” The clank’s eyes blinked at Zeetha who shifted uncomfortably. All this talk about her mother wasn’t helping her fear for Skifander.

                “Heavens, to believe either of them managed—”

                “Oh Tarvek you’ve returned,” Lucrezia said just too quickly. Zeetha narrowed her eyes. Either of them…?

                “If you could please, my Lady,”Tarvek began as he entered, distracting Zeetha from her thoughts. “I would appreciate if you would have your servants refrain from igniting parts of my home.”

                Lucrezia seemed surprised. “Oh. Well, if you wish. I rather thought when we were done you could just build a new one, _besides_ a nice jolly fire can be _wonderful_ on a chilly night.

                Tarvek considered this, and then very carefully removed his spectacles and began cleaning them. “Yesss— In a running, screaming, trying to save life and property kind of way… ” He allowed.

                “Anyway, we’ve been having _so_ much _fun_.” Lucrezia gestured to a chair and Tarvek made a small jump in surprise as he noticed the occupant, his clank head, now grinning up at him.

                “Come, come,” Lucrezia said, pulling on his arm. “I have been telling her our plans!” She pulled Tarvek over. “This is Tarvek Sturmvoraus, my dear.”

                The clank head smiled. “Heavens! He _does_ look a lot like Wilhelm! Possibly a bit handsomer!”

                Lucrezia grinned. “Isn’t he though?”

                Tarvek blinked down at the head before shaking off his shock and making a graceful bow. “Hello, my Lady. It is, as ever, an honor to meet you.”

                “Ooh and so polite! Well, we always _did_ have exquisite taste.”

                Tarvek started and Zeetha made a face. Lucrezia laughed girlishly behind a hand. “Oh, he’s not _ours_ , dear. Not like that.” She sensuously brushed her fingers down her front, a move that made Zeetha’s teeth clench. “He’s gone all soft for _The Girl_.”

                “Pish,” The clank replied. “Between the two of us, we’ll soon change that.” At that Zeetha forcefully removed her gaze from the three, her hands clenching and re-clenching.

                Lucrezia sighed. “Now, now, we mustn’t be selfish. Besides he still plays with dolls, and I’m not sure he’s ever—”

                A scarlet faced Tarvek executed a stiff bow. “If you’ll _excuse_ me ladies,” he said frostily and then strode off. Zeetha watched him go with barely hidden jealously as the two Lucrezia’s laughed.

                “Oh, and now we’ve gone and embarrassed him.”

                Lucrezia smiled devilishly, “Yes, he’s so stuffy. Just like dear Klaus, remember?”

                “Oh yes, this will be fun.”

                Zeetha frowned. From what she had been able to gather, Klaus was the name of The Baron, and Lucrezia had once known him. Known him rather well at that. Zeetha scratched at her cheek, her eyes scanning the ceiling. Something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t figure out what. Some more giggling from the rooms other two occupants dragged her from her thoughts.

                “So yes, after Tarvek has dealt with his sister, it will be your job to stay here and deal with Klaus’ little Questor.”

                Clank Lucrezia blinked, the closest she could do to a nod. “Of course, and you will be heading out with the Geisterdamen and the machines.”

                “Yes, along with Tarvek and our little Skifanderian here,” She glanced over at Zeetha with an alarming smile. Zeetha froze and as soon as Lucrezia’s attention was back on her “sister” her hand darted to her still bared neck. She hadn’t thought she was leaving this place. She had figured that she would be left behind with the clank Lucrezia. Lucrezia didn’t know about the proximity trigger.  She swallowed heavily, this could get bad fast.

                “You know dear, you haven’t yet told me our _little friend’s_ triggers yet.” Lucrezia glanced back at Zeetha with a sigh. Zeetha swallowed again and did her best to appear unperturbed.

                “Perhaps later,” Lucrezia answered. “It would be amusing, but she already has a bad burn on her neck and it really doesn’t do to _break_ your toys as soon as you get them. I would hate for her to lose her ability to make sound entirely.”

                Zeetha glanced down. She wasn’t stupid, she knew what Lucrezia meant. It really wouldn’t do if she lost her ability to scream.

                “Hmm, a pity then,” The clank replied. “Instead why don’t you tell me about that pretty little wasp Tarvek has gotten for us, I am _so_ jealous I won’t be able to get in there and find out how it ticks.”

                “Oh yes, it will be interesting to see how they went about it,” Lucrezia agreed. “A pity that the man who made it died, he would have been useful to keep around. But I doubt you’ll miss much, it shouldn’t be too hard to replicate, I already have some ideas—”

 

                Zeetha dubiously watched Tarvek strap himself up in some contraption of metal arms and wires. Lucrezia stood next to her. “So what exactly is the point of this again,” Lucrezia asked, even as she leered up at Tarvek’s bare chest.

                “To lead my sister into an ambush of course,” Tarvek replied smoothly. “It wouldn’t do to try and fight people who are already wasped. Plus with The Baron’s Questor already around we want to draw as little attention as possible. Your Geisterdamen are already set up in the secret room, as soon as I convince my sister to order everyone outside they can attack.

                “We want to take her with as little damage as possible so your uh… _sister_ can take her place easily.”

                Lucrezia nodded, finally dragging her eyes from Tarvek, who sighed with relief, and over to Zeetha, who stiffened.

                “You are to stay back,” she told her. “She was your charge so surely she knows the collars triggers.  There is absolutely no point in you bursting in only to spend the fight _seizing_ on the ground.”

                Zeetha grimaced. Lucrezia thought she was exaggerating, but she was far righter than she knew. If Anevka were to catch her she would surely use “Liga eam anima,” which not only have her on the ground, but also would give it away to Lucrezia, something Zeetha did not want in the least.

                So she nodded stiffly just as a Geisterdamen burst through the door. She said something In Geisterspeak, and the few remaining Geisterdamen rushed to the secret room. Zeetha’s expected that the moat had been brought down.

                Zeetha followed Lucrezia into the secret room, her eyes just catching Tarvek’s from where he hung from the ceiling before the stone blocks moved into place. Then all that was left was waiting.

                Zeetha stayed in the far back of the pack, too far to hear more than a mumble from the lab until Lucrezia got impatient and opened the door just a bit. The words then rushed in much clearer.

                Tarvek was chuckling, “Oh, Anevka, you _really_ are amazing. I can’t _believe_ how much you have grown.”

                “Is maudlin sentimentality supposed to make me feel guilty for killing you? Because if it didn’t work for Mummy—“

                There was a pause, then “Of course not. But I can assure you that you shan’t have to worry about the Questor.” That was the signal, and as one the Geisterdamen burst through the door, Lucrezia strolling out afterwards as if out on a stroll.

                Zeetha creeped up to the entranceway, taking pains to make sure she was still out of sight. Closer now, and with the door open it was easy to hear what happened next.

                Anevka shutting down all but Vrin to the ground, Tarvek’s surprise on just how well Anevka’s voice worked, she _knew_ he had messed with that somehow. Vrin being electrocuted, something that made Zeetha wince even though she only heard it happen. The fight between Anevka and Lucrezia, Lucrezia being knocked out, Anevka being stilled with a word.

                Zeetha felt a sudden anger upon realizing Tarvek could have always done that. After The Prince had died, before everything fell apart, he could have stopped her, but of _course_ not, he wanted the voice as much as she did, if for different reasons. Zeetha grit her teeth as the whirling noise of Tarvek’s machine let him down.

                She stood and stepped out into the shadows of the miscellaneous machinery that helped hide the entrance. Tarvek was leaning over one of Anevka’s strongmen, settling his arm into a more comfortable position. Anevka was frozen mid-step, facing away from her. Tarvek didn’t seem to notice her presence.

                “Tarvek! What have you _done_ to me?”

                Tarvek sighed and stood, an expression on his face that Zeetha couldn’t place, to mixed between what he wanted to show and how he actually felt. “When I constructed your body I made sure it would respond to my direct commands, remember at the time you weren’t exactly stable, I had no idea how you would take to it.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t the need to use it until now.”

                “But why do you need it now. I was about to kill the usurper!”

                “You were,” Tarvek agreed as he began dragging the Strongmen away to lean against the nearest wall.

                “And what are you doing with my Strongmen? I need them!”

                Tarvek straightened up. “Well that’s the thing.” He came up behind his sister, not more than a few meters from Zeetha. “You don’t really.” He picked up a limp hose and showed his sister. “Lucrezia cut your cables. She must have thought it would shut you down.” He dropped the hose. “I didn’t want your bearers thinking too much about the fact it didn’t.”

                Zeetha’s bubbling fury dissipated in a second as she took in the broken hose. Over three years of denial… was Tarvek really admitting to what he refused to notice? Had the severed hose finally forced him to accept reality?

                “My cables… but this body… is… is just a puppet.”

                Tarvek was quite for a moment, he was facing away from her so she couldn’t see his expression, though he nudged another cable with his foot. “Of course I could tell those idiots you were powered by _elf_ magic and they would probably believe it.”

                “With my cables cut I… I shouldn’t be able to…”

                Tarvek’s hands clenched and he stiffened, and yet his voice stayed completely calm. “Although, I could always just have you tell them to not think on it.”

                “ _Tarvek!_ ”Anevka sound completely terrified, enough so that even after the last three years Zeetha’s heart clenched. Tarvek cringed away from her, his body turning just enough for Zeetha to notice he had gone pale.

                His hand reached up, as if to land it on her shoulder, but he pulled it back last second. “I’ll _tell_ you,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

                As he talked he began to undo snaps and button of Anevka’s fur coat. “After Father put my sister Anevka through Lucrezia’s _damn_ summoning engine, it was clear that he had failed _yet again_ and that she was dying.”

                His hands shook as he removed her wig, a note of remembered fury echoing in his voice. “Of course, _then_ he was sorry. He almost went to pieces.”

                Tarvek paused, took a deep breath, and then continued dispassionately. “I needed him rational, so I built you.”

                He removed her tunic and began to fold it neatly, refusing to look up to her head. “Originally, this body was indeed a simple puppet to be run by my sister…” He paused. “But even from the beginning, you were something more than that.”

                Zeetha followed his gaze to the lightly humming casket. Its fans were still running, lights still flickered, but the brain inside that was receiving all this support, no longer thought, no longer dreamed, let alone ran a puppet.

                “Nothing I did could save my sister. But you… learned from her, and as she faded you did more and more on your own.” He walked over to the casket and flipped a small panel, a single glowing red light blinked out at him. He sighed, his voice shaking slightly. “In the end you never even realized when she died.”

                Anevka’s voice was as plaintive and lost as a young child’s. “You’re trying to trick me,” she whispered. “I’m not dead.”

                Tarvek walked around and looked Anevka in the eye. In the dim light Zeetha could just see tears running down his face. “I’m not lying,” he said gently. “I am… I _was_ very fond of my sister…” he gulped and took a deep breath. “I want you to know… that my father was not the only one who was comforted by your presence.”

                He paused and gave her a moment. When she finally spoke again it was like her voice was coming from a far distance. “”I… I’m not… Anevka? Not your sister?”

                Tarvek gently placed a hand on her cheek. “No.”

                “Then…” Her voce was faint now. “What am I?”

                Tarvek’s face firmed up. “A very good first try.” His hand slid back around her head and he flipped a small switch, the same one he switched every time he gave her maintenance. “Goodbye Anevka.”

                With a small burst of static from her speakers, Anevka’s eyes dimmed and then went out completely. Tarvek slid to the floor and let out a sob.

                Zeetha hesitated at the doorway, and then tip-toed over to the huddled figure, stopping at his side to stare at the dim figure of her tormentor. She didn’t try to offer Tarvek any words, kind or not, even though she now could. Instead she silently let him mourn.

                She had a brother out their somewhere, but she didn’t know him. But if Zedmara or Zed were to pass, when Zoniax _had_ passed… Tarvek had every right to mourn for a sister he had lost so long ago.

                After several minuets Tarvek’s sobs settled, and he glanced up at her. “She… she cried for days after Mum died,” he told her quietly. Zeetha stayed silent and just helped him to his feet, letting him wipe away his tears without comment.

                She stepped back as he reached up to gently and with a lot of care, detached Anevka’s head from her body. Tenderly he placed it into a small cabinet. “Sleep well, Anevka,” he whispered as he shut the cabinet door. Zeetha’s eyes darted to him, several statements he had said recently flashed through her mind.

_“A very good first try.”_

_“But if I can get that time I am sure I can get Lucrezia out of Agatha, Lucrezia out of anyone!”_

                Agatha wasn’t the only one he wanted to free, she realized belatedly. He had come to the same conclusion she had, that the download Anevka had gone through had not left her without marks.

                Tarvek wanted to save his sister.

                Grabbing some tools Tarvek made quick work reattaching the tubes to the back of Anevka’s body, Zeetha helping by holding the tubes in place as he worked. Both of them were silent as they worked, lost in their own thoughts.

                With a stretch Tarvek straightened, testing with a slight pull that the tubes had been attached correctly. One of the Geisterdamen moaned, and the two glanced at each other and then to the downed Lucrezia.

                “She’ll be waking soon,” He sighed. He walked over to a small, out of the way, metal canister, pulling a key from his pocket with reluctance. With a click he opened the container and blue light gleamed from the opening.

                “Hello Lucrezia,” he greeted.

 


	12. In which Zeetha and Tarvek prepare to leave

              “Tarvek, dear boy! I was afraid something had gone wrong.”

              “Sorry. Perhaps I should have put a clock in with you. You _know_ , like a _puppy._ ”

              “Father raised Sparkhounds.” Lucrezia replied conversationally. “They tended to eat clocks; we lost Auntie’s Skullchula’s favorite grandfather clock that way.” Zeetha made a face as she watched the two, Lucrezia and small talk was a strange combination after everything that had happened. Tarvek seemed to concur as he changed the subject.

              “This face is far more expressive than the last. Some of my best work, really.” Zeetha had to agree, though she wished he hadn’t. Anevka’s grin had already been disturbing, Lucrezia’s was far worse.

              “Not _too_ much better I trust,” Lucrezia said with a small frown. “We don’t want people to start to notice.”

              Tarvek smiled reassuringly, only his too tight grip on the head showed his misgiving on the entire situation. “You change your wigs, why not your face?” He blinked as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Actually, you could tell the townspeople that your face always looked like this, and that’s what they will tell anyone who asks.”

              Lucrezia laughed in delight. “Oh, this _will_ be easy! Now where is my sister?”

              Tarvek tucked the head under his arm, an action that made Zeetha lip twitch, and began to thread through the sprawled bodies. “Knocked out,” he told her. “But she’ll be fine.”

              Lucrezia’s eyes clicked rapidly as they darted back and forth, trying to see everything. Tarvek paused in a relatively clear part of the room and held her up, slowly spinning so she could get a glimpse of the entire room. “Heavens!” She remarked. “I seem to have missed quite the party.” With a click her eyes landed on Zeetha. “But I see _you’re_ alright?” Zeetha refused to flinch, she really didn’t need any new burns now, and instead raised an eyebrow.

              Tarvek reached up and slotted Lucrezia’s head onto the clank. “Lucrezia told her to stay away while my sister was here, she knows the vocal triggers, and she wanted her unharmed.” He told her.

              “Hmm, true.”

              Tarvek grabbed the head and with one final twist, which to be honest looked as if he was trying to break her neck, and the head clicked into place.

              The reintegrated clank gave a shudder and Lucrezia took a slightly shaky step forward. She raised her hands and patted her head, and gingerly rotated it about. “That felt most peculiar,” she declared.

              Tarvek turned away to get her wig. “Dose everything work? Fingers? Toes?” Lucrezia raised a hand and Zeetha had just enough time to wince before she snapped it forward and pinched him sharply in the backside. He let out a shriek and jumped forward. When he spun about, Lucrezia regarded him innocently.

              “I appear to have delicate motor control,” she responded with a wiggle of her fingers. Zeetha couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Tarvek had walked right into that.

              “That _almost_ makes up for you severe lack of self-control,” he huffed. Lucrezia ignored him. Zeetha wondered if Tarvek realized how much sass he gave the Lucrezias, and how much they let him get away with it.

              Lucrezia stepped forward to pick up the wig from where it had fallen only to be stopped short by the hoses pulling at her back.

              She turned back to Tarvek. “Do I really actually _need_ this thing? It’s most inconvenient.”

              Tarvek swallowed. His hands shook just a bit at his sides, as if he was forcing himself not to move them. “No.” he said huskily. “No you don’t. But too many people outside of Stumhulten know about it. In my opinion, we should keep it around until things settle down. Then we can come up with some story.”

              The brain was important; Tarvek was making that obvious to Zeetha. That made sense; the copy in Anevka’s head was not only tainted by Lucrezia but also quite possibly not a full transfer. If Agatha was an inclination, Anevka’s mind should still be whole in their somewhere. Zeetha had no idea how bringing someone back to life worked, but as far as she knew Anevka had been brain dead for years, kept on life support yes, but dead. Tarvek could very well be setting himself up for failure. He had a hard time bringing James back, and he had only been dead hours at most.

              Lucrezia nodded slowly. “Yes, too many astonishing things at once would look suspicious.” She looked over at the strongmen leaning against the wall.

              “That one doesn’t look at all well.”

              “He’s dead.”

              “Oh yes, that would do it.”

              “A little surprise from you sister, when my sister proved a bit recalcitrant.”

              Lucrezia examined the wound and nodded. “Well I do love surprises.”

              Tarvek jerked a thumb over to the door. “There are a group of town’s people outside; you can choses one of them to replace him. But we’d best get moving, they won’t wait forever.”

              Lucrezia placed the wig on her head and delicately put into place. “They will if _I_ tell them to,” She muttered. She turned about and allowed Tarvek to button the jacket on around her hoses. “But you’re right of course. Klaus’ man won’t.”

              She then delivered a nudge with her foot to the back of Lucrezia’s head. “Wake up this instant, you lazy girl.” Zeetha stared at her as if she had gone mad, or… well, madder. And when the other Lucrezia let out a moan she stared down at her. She was pretty sure that Lucrezia had been out this entire time, but the fact she was waking up so quickly made her uneasy.

              Tarvek helped the organic Lucrezia to her feet. She wobbled a bit and then spotted the mechanical Lucrezia. “Lucrezia?”

              The clank leaned forward. “Lucrezia?” The two then proceeded to blink at a pace that gave Zeetha a headache to follow. Obviously Lucrezia had planned ahead, and was less trusting than she acted.

              The organic Lucrezia clapped her hands with a little hop. “It worked!”

              The mechanical Lucrezia nodded. “Of course.”

              The two then proceeded to hug each other with a squall of pure delight that had Zeetha covering her ears. “We’re going to win!” they sang out.

              “Mistress?” A shaken voice called out. The two broke apart and Zeetha glanced to the side to find a very shaken Vrin staring at the two.

              Organic Lucrezia sighed. “Yes Vrin. Oh, _please_ do close your mouth dear, it’s unbecoming. I did try to explain this to you. Yes, we are _both_ your Mistress. You are to _obey_ us both. Do you understand?”

              With more assurance than she obviously felt Vrin nodded.

              Organic Lucrezia continued. “Now Vrin, you, your sisters, Prince Tarvek, and ah—” she paused realizing she didn’t know Zeetha’s name. “—The Skifanderian girl, are going to come with me through the tunnels. As far as the rest of Europa is concerned we were never here. We will catch up to the others, establish a new base, reassemble the machines, and get back to work.”

              Mechanical Lucrezia took over. “I shall stay here. Everyone will think me Princess Anevka who has just rescued her town and driven off her traitorous, homicidal brother.” She patted Tarvek on the cheek. Tarvek scowled at that as he turned away to begin reviving some of the Geisterdamen with smelling salts. “Such a shame he got away after losing the fight with my attendants, especially poor, valiant—” she gestured to the fallen strongman, and then turned to Tarvek. “What was his name?”

              Tarvek paused. “I have no idea.” He glanced at Zeetha who shrugged. Anevka went through Strongmen faster than any servant in the castle. That, the fact they weren’t supposed to talk, and that they didn’t get any personalized orders meant that she had no clue what it could be.

              “—Augustine,” Mechanical Lucrezia decided. “His name was Augustine.”

              “We had a dear pussy cat named Augustine,” Organic Lucrezia confided to Tarvek. “He also had to die, it was very sad.”

              Zeetha didn’t want to even think about what that implied. The fact anyone had allowed animals near Lucrezia, child or not, made Zeetha sick. There really weren’t any ‘pet’ animals in Skifander, all animals they raised had a purpose, and as such they were treated with respect. Her aunt’s Kalsu had an extra cub not long before she left Skifander, and she had gotten to raise it even though she wasn’t a Princess Hunter. She had named him Kodan and he hadn’t been bigger than her head when she had left. By now his head would likely reach her hip. A deep feeling of melancholy swept through Zeetha that she had trouble brushing off. She missed home.

              Mechanical Lucrezia put the back of her hand to her head with a soft clong that broke Zeetha from her thoughts. “When brave Augustine impaled himself upon my wicked brother’s sword, why, I almost wept because I was unable to weep for him.” She paused and turned to Organic Lucrezia. “I think that last part needs some work.”

              Organic Lucrezia patted her on the back. “Oh, you’ll be magnificent, darling. Klaus’ man will swallow it whole, leaving Tarvek and me to work on the Hive Engines in piece.”

              Vrin had taken over waking the Geisterdamen from Tarvek, giving him a dirty look as she did so, so Tarvek quickly raised the three remaining strongmen and then inconspicuously slipped the small glass bottle of sleeping salts into his pocket.

              As the Lucrezias waited, Mechanical Lucrezia pouted. “Oh I still wish I could go with you, as necessary as all this is.” Her voice dropped, but Zeetha could still just hear what she said next. “But it’s _so_ unfair, you’ll get to console poor little Tarvek over the loss of his castle.”

              Organic Lucrezia’s voice dropped also, and took on a slightly husky tone. She shivered in anticipation. “Mmm, yes, that _will_ be fun. He still thinks he’s going to learn all our secrets and rescue our daughter you know.”

              Had learned a lot already, Zeetha thought as she kept her gaze carefully on the reviving Geisterdamen, and not them. Though the fact that they were on to Tarvek, which granted was expected to some point, was going to make things more difficult.

              Mechanical Lucrezia stiffened a laugh. “Oh such a romantic, those are always such fun to break.”

              Organic Lucrezia licked her lips. “I know. At some point I will have to let him think he’s got her back.” She fluttered her eyes. “She’ll be _ever_ so grateful.”

              Zeetha went green at that, her hands twitching. What Lucrezia was implying… she was going to have to warn Tarvek to keep an eye out, and they were going to have to be very careful once Tarvek figured out how to free Agatha, to make sure it wasn’t a ruse. That said, it helped that the two were very different people, down to their body language, and unlike Lucrezia she had at least some idea on who Agatha was. Not a lot, but some.

              Mechanical Lucrezia slapped Organic Lucrezia on the arm. “You wicked, wicked girl!” The two giggled and Tarvek glanced over confused. From the look of Zeetha’s face he shuddered. He stood up straight and walked over to a bare wall. With a twist of a finial a door appeared. Several of the risen Geisterdamen trotted ahead to scout.

              “I’m going to go ahead to grab a new shirt,” he told the Lucrezias who barely paid him any mind. With a shrug he walked on, Zeetha following him without a word. The two then veered off into a small bolt hole and away from the Geisterdamen.

               “Okay we have to do this quick,” Tarvek says once they were finally alone, hastily throwing on a shirt. In front of him was a simple table with several tools on it: screwdriver, wire cutter, several bottles, bandages, and a syringe. Zeetha stared at them and gulped even as she sat herself down on the table.

              They hadn’t told Lucrezia about her proximity trigger in fear that she would change her mind and leave her here, locked away in this prison of a castle. Because of that though they needed to work fast, they only had a few minutes to try and remove the trigger.

              And it was going to _hurt_ , a _lot_.

              Zeetha winced and laid back, trying very hard not to think back to the day she had tried to pull the collar off, to not pay attention to the fact that her throat already stung.

              Tarvek barely touched the collar as he rotated it around her neck, looking for a place he could open it. When he found it he let it drop back to her neck and Zeetha had to hold back a hiss. Tarvek then handed her a strip of leather which she clutched between her teeth, it would not be good for her to scream and draw attention, and closed her eyes tightly.

              Tarvek’s hand pressed down on her shoulder and Zeetha had to force back an instinctual need to fight, long buried blurry memories rising to the surface that she _really_ didn’t need right now. Tarvek hesitated only for a moment, and then there was the slightest tink of metal on metal.

              And then pain.

              Tarvek forced every bit of his weight and hidden strength down as Zeetha jerked up, her back arching. Taking a painful stream of air through her nose she grasped desperately for the sides of the table to clench, her teeth biting straight through the leather. She fought back a scream.

              And then everything went dark.

              Zeetha dragged herself to conscious one breath at a time. Blearily she opened her eyes. A small glass vial covered most of her vision, the blurred form of Tarvek’s face behind it. Tiredly she let her eyelids flutter closed and took another whiff of the smelling salts before Tarvek took them away. Her head felt a little clearer. Her neck felt… uh… felt weird.

              She opened her eyes once more and stared up questioning at Tarvek.

              “I numbed your neck,” he told her lifting the syringe into her view. “Honestly it may be the only reason you are awake right now.” As Zeetha’s vision began to properly focus she realized he was rather pale. “I was only able to get rid of the proximity trigger,” he told her. “If I had tried for anything else I would have— _you_ would have died.”

              Zeetha’s eyes closed and she slowly swallowed. Now that she was more lucid she could feel the numbness of her neck. Everything felt wrong and to big, but only vaguely felt painful. She didn’t want to think of how it must look.

              “I bandaged it up,” he continued. “And put some medicine on it.” He stopped and gazed at her tired form. “I hate to do this, but we need to get you moving, I still have some stimulants that Lucrezia was taking—“

              “And what is going on here.” Tarvek stilled and Zeetha let her head lull to the side to glance at the doorway. Lucrezia stood, hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised.

              “I forgot.” Tarvek started his voice just showing his surprise. “That Father had put in not only vocal triggers, but a proximity trigger as well; she couldn’t leave the castle with that in. It has never been needed so it completely slipped my mind until now. You said you wanted her with us—”

              “Yes, yes,” she sighed waving her hand. “You could have told me, I want her as undamaged as possible, you know.” She glanced at Zeetha who stared back blankly, unable to bring up the energy to care. “Is she even able to move?”

              “I’m sure she will be in a moment,” Tarvek assured. “If not I could give her a stimulant. She was only out for a moment.”

              “Humph.” Lucrezia snorted through her nose, glancing between the two with narrowed eyes. “Just be ready to go, we are leaving in a minuet.” She turned and left. Tarvek winced, and then glanced down at Zeetha who was looking a bit better but not by much.

              “Stimulant?” he asked. Zeetha nodded then grimaced as the skin on her neck pulled weird. He turned around and began to prepare a different syringe. As he turned back he began talking. “Don’t try to speak, keep your breath as shallow as possible, and _listen_ to Lucrezia, you do _not_ want another shock, not if you can help it.”

              Zeetha nodded the slightest bit as Tarvek cleaned a bit of her arm with some alcohol and stuck her. After that Tarvek began to put the things away as Zeetha waited a moment for the stimulant to kick in. Once some energy began to trickle in, she forced herself up and dangled her legs over the edge of the table. Still slightly groggy Zeetha pulled down her shirt back over the exposed leather of her armor. Tarvek turned back to her, her jacket in his hands.

              “Here, you left this in my lab, it still has your things in it, and I thought you might want it back.”

              Zeetha blinked at him and reached out for her jacket, slightly touched. She mouthed “thank you” to him, in Romanian even, she was rather proud of that. She pulled it on and began to button it up, the weight of her miscellaneous objects comforting. As her fingers reached her collar she paused as they hit the thick gauze. Gently she fingered the bandage and the metal collar sitting on top of it, before sighing and letting her hand drop. She didn’t bother to finish buttoning it up. She didn’t want to have something tight around her neck right now, and since Lucrezia already knew it didn’t matter.

              “Here,” Tarvek continued handing her a tiny vial and two small jars of burn cream. The tips of his fingers were red and some had even been hastily wrapped. “In case we get separated. The vial is a numbing solution, use it as sparingly as you can, you know what the others are…” He trailed off, almost embarrassed. Zeetha was well aware of how to use the burn cream, having needed to do so uncountable times. Noticing his look she tapped him on the arm, and when he glanced over to her, gave a small smile. Tarvek blinked and looked away.

              Rolling her eyes Zeetha shoved the creams into her pockets, they bulged a bit but not horribly. It didn’t really matter anyhow. Meanwhile Tarvek selected a pair of boots and pulled them on.

              Then Lucrezia was at the door again. “Hurry up now, surely you don’t need much.”

              Tarvek sighed. “True the Geisterdamen are carrying everything important, and I do plan on coming back—” He paused.

              “ _But_ —” Lucrezia prompted.

              Tarvek slumped a bit, his eyes going to the armoire in search of a proper coat. “But I don’t really know _when_ I’ll be back. This is my home, you know, my family’s responsibility. It’s surprisingly difficult leaving all this behind. Not knowing when or if I’ll return.” He shouldered a coat on. “Do you ever get like that?”

              Even though he hadn’t been talking to her, Zeetha’s eye’s dropped to the ground. A sense of longing for a home she didn’t know how to find, if she would ever find, filled her. She had been expected back more than a year ago, she had missed so much. Leaving home had been hard, but it had also felt like an adventure, now part of her wished she had never entered that competition.

              “You have _no_ idea,” Lucrezia said, her voice incredibly odd. Zeetha glanced at her but all she saw was a rueful smile. Tarvek waited a moment to see if she would continue and then began slowly buttoning up his Jacket. Lucrezia rolled her eyes. Zeetha hid a smile as she noticed; Tarvek was rather good at playing the hopeless fool.

              Then Vrin was at Lucrezia elbow. “Mistress! The Baron is here!” Unbidden she took Lucrezia’s elbow, and pulled her over to a hidden window that looked out over the courtyard and the crowd of townspeople. Zeetha and Tarvek followed behind curiously.

              “His Questor, you mean? Well it’s about time.” Zeetha looked out, but everyone was staring upwards. Zeetha followed their gaze and her mouth dropped open. Tugging furiously at Tarvek’s sleeve she subtly pointed up. He looked and his eyes went wide.


	13. In which The Baron comes for a visit.

                “Oh no,” he whispered.

                “Oh no what—” Lucrezia began to ask only to be stopped as the courtyard was dwarfed in shadows. She looked up as well to find the sky full of airships of multiple types and sizes, but all carrying the mark of The Empire. As they floated their bottoms began to fray and little dots burst out, dots which soon became recognizable as smaller airships. There were dozens of them. They were all coming closer.

                “Have my priestesses gone blind?” Lucrezia screamed. She turned to Tarvek. “Or even your sentries! _How_ could they not see this coming?”

                “They weren’t _there_ a minuet ago,” Vrin declared.

                Tarvek stared up at the ships, unfazed by Lucrezia’s fury. “There’s always a bit of high altitude cloud cover that forms over the mountains at this time of day. They must have known that.” Tarvek muttered. “They could drift in with it, and then drop fast.”

                Lucrezia looked at him with astonishment. “What—All of them? Flying in close formation? _Within the clouds?_ That’s extremely dangerous! Why would they do that?”

                Tarvek looked down at her, his face grim. “It’s part of the standard procedure for quarantining a Slaver-infected town! That’s no Questor–that’s the Baron himself up there and he’s brought an army! He _knows_!”

                After that it was insanity as the four of them dashed away. Tarvek and Lucrezia argued as they went. _How could he possibly know? Would The Girl’s device need to be deactivated?_ Tarvek managed, through his frustration of not knowing what The Baron knew, as well and his frantic fear of all his labs being found, to tell her _no, Agatha’s device was useless, it needed to be on the roof, it was harmless._ A mighty feat considering just moments before he had been complaining about The Baron finding everything.

                Zeetha realized as they argued that Agatha’s plan might actually work, The Baron would likely get his hands on her message, and it would get out. That was good, she guessed, maybe.

                Then suddenly the entire world shook. Zeetha barely stayed on her feet, and the rest collapsed. Some rubble pounded downs beside them. Looking up Zeetha could see most of the roof of the south tower had been blown off.

                “My Castle!” Tarvek yelped in horror as he stood.

                “Wasn’t your laboratory up on that floor,” Vrin asked innocently.

                “My lab!”

                Missiles began shooting upwards, letting out streams of smoke. That was why Agatha hadn’t wanted Tarvek to look over the footage, and why she wanted it on the roof, Zeetha realized. Suddenly she was really glad that she had moved the Muses. Tarvek blinked and slowly looked at Lucrezia, his face pale. “Uh-oh,” he muttered.

                Lucrezia grabbed him by the shirt and shook him until several of his buttons flew off. “That ‘useless machine’ that fool of a daughter of mine was building – What Does It Do?”

                From the shattered room came one last missile, and then suddenly Stumhulten was bathed in lights. A swell of unearthly music creeped out onto the streets, the humming, and just afterwards their stood Agatha, a good fifty meters tall, glowing, and mildly translucent.

                The figure moved and opened its mouth. “I am Agatha Heterodyne.” The boom of sound blew out most of the remaining windows of the south tower, and caused the stonework itself to vibrate. This time all four of them was blasted to the floor

                “Daughter of Bill Heterodyne and Lucrezia Mongfish—” And it went on, performing Agatha’s message smoothly and unedited. Zeetha pulled herself to her feet. The two of them were so dead; Lucrezia was going to—wait.

                Zeetha turned at the same time as Tarvek did to just catch Agatha turning a corner. “Agatha wait!” he yelled out as the two of them dashed off after her, Vrin right on their heels. They caught up with her in a dead end full of brooms and rakes. She turned to look at them with total fear, and Zeetha’s stomach dropped.

                “Agatha, you have to trust me,” He tried as Agatha took a step back, her hands patting the stone work frantically, looking for some sort of mechanisms.

                “Don’t be insulting. You’re using me just as much as… as she is!”

                Tarvek looked at her steadily as he inched closer. He dropped his voice. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to get all of us out of here alive?”

                Vrin stepped around the corner with a laugh. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. With the Summoning engine safely away, even should my Lady in Princess Anevka perish, we no longer have to worry about being without our Mistress again! I have been given permission to kill all of you, if it became necessary.”

                She jauntily flipped her sword into the air where it spun several times before she effortlessly caught it. Zeetha watched it, and even though it was probably the last thing she should feel at this moment, she was incredibly jealous. She missed her swords. “I was so worried it wouldn’t become necessary.”

                Her blade lazily flicked out, and Tarvek who had already been moving to grab a broom was unable to dodge it. He slammed back against the wall, a thing strip of blood staining his shirt. “That hurt.” He complained.

                “Now Girl,” she started, extending a friendly hand to Agatha even as she easily parried Tarvek’s wild slice with his broom stick, carving a new slice onto Tarvek’s arm. “You could still be useful, come with me and I will kill this pig– or spare him if that is what you wish.” Zeetha slowly grasped another discarded broom and began to creep around the Geisterdamen.

                “And you.” Vrin said, easily blocking Zeetha surprise swing, slicing the broom in half. She was _so_ out of practice. “The Lady wishes you unharmed. If you come peacefully I assure that you will be freed from your wretched prison and allowed home.” Zeetha froze for a second, and Vrin smiled. “Perhaps she will even allow you to govern over it.” Zeetha’s mind went blank with rage, and she ducked down to grab the other half of her broom before swinging furiously, but with noticeable practice, at the surprised Priestess.

                Tarvek took this chance to yell, “Agatha run, you don’t want to be alone with them if I’m not there with you,” before trying to join the fray. Zeetha grit her teeth, he had good intentions, but he was obviously not a swordsman and his swings were making this extra difficult.

                “Wonderful! I get to kill you both.” Vrin gleamed before frowning as Zeetha got a strong hit with one of her sticks on her offhand arm. With a scowl she sliced both sticks too low to be any use, and as Zeetha stumbled to respond, got a good blow to her head with the hilt. Zeetha staggered back.

                She then turned to Tarvek, and batted away his broomstick, knocking it from his hand. With a simple movement she stabbed him in the arm. Tarvek winced but held fast. “Agatha just _go_ , Hurry!”

                “Oh I so wish I could do this slowly,” She sighed as she twisted her sword to free it from Tarvek’s arm. Tarvek yelped in pain. With a flip of her sword she smacked Tarvek in the jaw with her hilt, knocking him into the wall and then to the floor. “But I am kind of in a hurry.”

                Tarvek made a supreme effort and managed to roll himself over to his back. He blinked blearily up at Vrin, who placed her sword to his throat. “But before you die I want you to admit that your machinations failed. You thought you could _betray_ my Lady! _Use her_ for your own _petty_ ambitions! Admit your defeat.”

                “Absolutely,” Tarvek mumbled. “You’re right I’ve failed, okay?”

                Vrin glared. “You take the honor out of everything!” She screamed as she raised her blade—

                “Vrin stop!”

                Vrin froze. “No, no you are not my Lady, I know—” She stumbled forward as Zeetha boxed in her ears, and then collapsed as Zeetha gave her a knockout punch to the back of her head. Glancing up at a the surprised Agatha, who had grabbed another broomstick, Zeetha nodded.

                “Those weren’t workin’ well.” She told her in hoarse speech. Agatha blinked.

                “Since when could you _talk_?”

                “Since several hours ago,” Tarvek moaned from the cobblestones. “Surprised all of us, _and_ she’s _not_ supposed to be!”

                Zeetha rolled her eyes and waved him off. For the moment her throat was still numb. Agatha eyed it. “What happened to your—“

                “Had to take out the proximity trigger,” Tarvek groaned again. “Father also put in a meddling failsafe, nasty combination—” he paused to wince in pain. “Ow!”

                “You know I should give you a smack,” she told him, even as she approached him, obvious concern in her eyes. Zeetha eyed the two before grabbing Vrin’s sword, ignoring the leap of happiness she felt to be holding a blade again, and walked off a bit to check the parameter. A hand creeping up to rub at her growing bruise, Vrin hit hard.

                “Please don’t,” Tarvek said. “Bleeding heavily here.”

                A bemused voice from above sighed. “Ah, well, I suppose we should do something about that.” Zeetha jumped and raised her sword. Staring down upon the three of them was a group of Wulfenbach soldiers, two of them clad in long, green cloaks with strange skulls on top their head. They were flanked by two brass trooper clanks, whose machine cannons never wavered from them.

                The speaker was a short, plump, elderly solider, with a meticulously cut, snowy white beard, whom was casually sitting, his feet dangling over the edge.

                “They say you can judge a person by your enemies.” He pointed his pistol towards the still comatose Vrin. “So you three are lookin’ pretty good right now. But I’m sure you could change my mind by doin’ something stupid.”

                Zeetha hesitated slightly, and then lowered her sword, glancing at Tarvek who looked far too pale to deal with any of this. Agatha dropped her broom with a clatter. The old solider glanced at Zeetha who sighed and reluctantly dropped her sword as well, she had been so close to having one again, and stepped away. He smiled.

                “That’s a good start Frauliens. I’m Sergeant Scorp, First Vespiary Squad. Second Division. Second Army of East Transylvania.”

                “Sir.” One of the cloaked solders leaned in. “I believe that’s the Heterodyne Girl.”

                Scorp glanced up at the image still booming over the town, before glancing back down at the three. Zeetha had tensed up, and was now looking wildly between him and Agatha. “Really? She looks shorter.”

                “What of course she’s—”

                “—jokin’ ,” Scorp said gently.

                The cloaked solider looked at his superior for a moment before nodding slowly. “Ah. Humor. Yes?”

                Scorp rolled his eyes. “Yes. Dimitri, humor. Go check ‘em out.”

                “Yessir.’ Without another word the two cloaked solider leapt the four meters to the ground, effortlessly landed on their feet, and approached the four. From large wicker baskets at their sides they extracted strange, eight legged creatures, which they held up to each of them in turn.

                Agatha—“Clean.”

                Tarvek—“Clean.”

                Zeetha –“ Clean.”

                Vrin – The Weasel shirked and thrashed about in their handler’s hands. “Revenant!”

                Zeetha stared at the weasels; she hadn’t known such a thing existed. A glance at Tarvek showed he was as just as surprised. “That’s how he knew,” he whispered under his breath.

                “Funny thing that,” Scorp said, peering at Agatha. “That you’d be fighting someone who you’re supposed to be able to control, ‘Specially since you told everyone that you were losing this fight with The Other.” He leered at her, as if he wasn’t sure if she was Agatha or Lucrezia.

                Agatha winced and Zeetha took a step forward. “Music,” she said, the cloaked figures glancing at each other thanks to her accent. She pointed at the glowing figure. Agatha snapped back into focus.

                “She’s right.” Agatha said. “I’m only me at the moment because of the music, it won’t last forever. I need to see Baron Wulfenbach as quickly as possible.” Her face fell at the thought. Scorp glanced down at her, his face kind.

                “You might be lying to us,” he said. “But that don’t make much sense with you fighting your own people. You’ll see him soon enough.” His voice softened. “And don’t look so down, if anyone can help you it’d be him.”

                Tarvek painfully snorted from where one of the cloaked soldiers was tending to him. Scorp glanced over to him with a raised eyebrow. “The tall version of this one.” he pointed at Agatha. “Said you were helping her, so I guess we better be bringing you along. How soon until he’s ready to move out?”

                “He won’t like it.” The cloaked solider cautioned.

                “Trick question son, he really doesn’t have a choice.”

                A few moments later they were on the move, one of the brass clanks carrying Tarvek. Vrin had been shackled and left behind for the clean-up crews to sort out. Zeetha was practically glowing, Scorp had allowed her to carry Vrin’s sword. It wasn’t her preferred style, not in the least, but it still made her beam despite the circumstances.

                She walked next to Agatha who more the less was next to Tarvek, who was being carried. She was pale and Zeetha felt her smile drop. She gently bumped her shoulder and when Agatha glanced at her said, “Ok?” With as much question as she could.

                “I—“ She paused. “No I’m not okay, my head feels like it’s about to explode.” Tarvek grimaced from the clank’s arms.

                “Oh dear,” he muttered.

                “Now what?’ Agatha demanded.

                “Listen— you’re drugged. With a massive load of stimulants. Lucrezia insisted that her priestesses see her moving on her own.”

                “Your joking, she wanted to feel like this?” Zeetha had to catch her hand from smacking Tarvek’s thigh. Agatha scowled at her but let it drop.

                “Don’t hit me,” Tarvek winced. “I had to give her a quadruple dose, you’re body has been awake for days now. If you get excited, your brain could kind of short circuit. You have to stay calm.”

                “Calm! You expect me to stay calm!” She shouted. “I feel jittery and angry… and I have a… a terrible pressure on my chest! Like I have a… a…” She paused and reached under her shirt and into her cleavage. She gave a start of surprise and pulled out the miniature Hive Engine. Both Tarvek and Zeetha started. “And what on Earth is this?”

                “She put it down her shirt,” Tarvek asked, being incredibly unhelpful. He had thought she had sent it ahead with the other Geisterdamen. Zeetha glared at him and made the symbol for wasp with her hands. Agatha blinked at her in confusion, and she remembered belatedly that only Tarvek knew her hand signals.

                Her throat was starting to hurt again, and she really didn’t want to talk, but seeing as Tarvek was being no help she opened her mouth—

                Only to stop because Agatha had been examining the small sphere and had accidently pushed a button. A red light lit up and a small jet of vapor puffed out from the top. Several meters away the Weasels paused and began to scream. Their handlers glanced at them confused. Not long after a crowd of murderous townspeople poured from around the corner.

                “Wow!” one of the handlers said. “They sensed them from all the way over their! They have never been able to do _that_ before!”

                Tarvek on the other hand was frantically whispering. “Agatha! Push the red button. The red button!”

                “What—I—alright,” She said, his panic catching, and she scrambled to push the button. The light faded, and the weasels stopped shrieking. Both Tarvek and Zeetha let out a sigh of relief.

                “Form a firing line!” Scrop roared.

                “No!” Tarvek screamed. “Don’t drop me!” The clank let him fall and he hit the ground with a pained groan.

                “They’re going to shoot them?” Agatha asked wide eyed.

                That was obviously the case as the crowd surged forward. The soldiers and clanks formed a line.

                “Fix bayonets,” Scorp ordered from the side. Smoothly the troops affixed the long steel blades to their rifles.

                “But they can’t, those people aren’t armed, some of them are children!” Agatha yelled in dismay. Zeetha grabbed her by the arms, shook her, and pointed to her throat. Agatha stared at her wide eyed.

                “Tell them to stop,” Tarvek groaned from the pavement. “You can order them, they will listen to you. If they’re not attacking the soldiers won’t shoot them” Agatha’s eyes went wide.

                Agatha whirled to the stampeding crows and filled her lungs, “LISTEN TO ME!” She shouted.

                Then there was an explosion and everyone stilled for a second. And then there was a sudden and acute lack of sound. The crowds shook this off first and began advancing, a low murmuring of ‘stop The Other’ rolling off from them. Scrop was next and her roared at the soldiers to keep their eyes front. Tarvek stared up at the smoldering keep, as the ramifications for the silence hit him. Zeetha caught on a second later, whirled around, and snatched the back of Scrop’s jacket.

                “The sound!” She yelled through a pained throat. He paused, and then she saw his eyes go wide as he realized what that meant.

                “Ignore the crowds,” Tarvek yelled at the other soldiers. “The Heterodyne Girl! You have to—“

                A gunshot echoed around the walls and everyone froze. Tarvek fell to the floor. Lucrezia sighed as she tossed the revolver away. “What a waste.” Glancing right at Zeetha’s neck she smirked. “Inpulsa.”

                Zeetha seized at once as any help the numbing had given her evaporated. Pain burst forth and she tumbled to the ground over Tarvek, out cold, her bandages smoking. “That as well, it would have been _so_ fun,” Lucrezia sighed, and glanced at the crowds. “KILL THE SOILDERS! KILL THEM ALL.” With a laugh she vaulted over the railing and darted off. Echoes of “KILL THE SOILDERS!” drifting back.

                The crowd hesitated for a moment as a very different order spread through the ranks, but once again they began marching forward. Scorp cursed.

                “Where did she get that gun!” he roared.

                The Medic paled from where he crouched next to Zeetha, pulling her smoking bandages off before they made her burns worse. The gun had landed not far from him “That… that is my gun, Sergeant.”

                “You and you,” Scorp pointed! “Go after her and take her down however you can.” To the rest he roared. “Everyone else, firing positions! You too medic!”

                He turned to face the coming mob of unarmed civilians and grit his teeth. “FIRE!”


	14. In which The Baron finds his lost Skifandian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads up. I've been experiencing some medical problems lately, which include random joint and muscle pain, metal fog, and fatigue. This story is completed already so I will still be posting, but when I post might be later in the day depending on when I can get myself up, and some of my editing may suffer. Once I'm feeling better I will re-look through these chapters. Until then, if you see something particularly bad, feel free to comment below.

                Zeetha woke to a striking headache that was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer pain of her neck. Each breath felt as if her throat was being cut over and over again. Her moan was more painful than it was worth.

                “Shh,” A voice calmed. Zeetha blinked her eyes open to find the blurry face of the Medic from before. “You neck—it’s well… it’s in horrible shape. Don’t try to talk. I’ve re-bandaged it, your other one had begun to burn.” Zeetha blinked at him. A groan from her side had her turning her head, which almost put her back under.

                “Here,” the Medic said, sticking something into her thigh. “Some painkillers, it’s the best I can do.” He then turned to the form next to her, Tarvek. “Didn’t expect you to be coming around,” he admitted.

                “I… I was shot,” Tarvek whimpered. The Medic blushed.

                “By a stun bullet, but yes, um… I have to apologize; it was my revolver she used. I don’t know how she got it off me.” Tarvek stared up at him blankly and he sighed. “Can either of you walk, they are bringing medic ships down to the Caravan Grounds, they’re not far.”

                Zeetha fought off a groan as she sat up and looked around. They were alone, though fighting could be heard in the distance, except for a bunch of knocked out townspeople shackled together in several different groups, and secured against the walls of nearby houses. With a wince she got to her feet, and with some help from the Medic, Tarvek was standing as well, though he quite nearly tipped over.

                The Medic threw him over his shoulder, fireman style, and the two set off. But not before Zeetha snatched up Vrin’s sword. The Medic didn’t even try to stop her. As she walked past burning house and shackled people Zeetha thoughts drifted through her hazy mind.

                She was free, freer than she had been for a long time. She could probably just run and she would be able to escape. The Medic was burdened by Tarvek. Once out of here chances are no one would ever find out her triggers. She could just leave.

                But how would she get home. Could she really leave when Skifander was in such danger? Could she really leave Tarvek helpless and injured? Could she leave Agatha—

                Well… she had already left Agatha, chances were she was being shot right now, or else she was escaping to start another Long War and wasp the rest of the continent. Zeetha clenched her fist; she couldn’t let that happen, not when she might be able to help. She could talk now, she knew stuff, she could help.

                By the time they hit the Caravan Grounds the Medic was panting hard, so hard that Tarvek who, had regained some of his lucidity, demanded to be put down. Though still wobbly, with some help from Zeetha, he kept to his feet.

                “They should be here any minute now—theirs one,” The Medic exclaimed as a ship came down fast, not far from a bunch of wagons. By the time it landed they had practically joined the group of people that surrounded the wagons. The Medic slowed. “Wait! That’s not a medic ship.”

                Zeetha was too distracted to pay attention. Because surrounded by the crowd of performers, as well as a cat in a coat and several really strange monster men of bizarre colors, was Lucrezia. She stepped forward to the Medic’s dismay.

                The door of the airship burst open and a gasp went up around the crowd. Zeetha glanced up to find a large, broad man with bushy silver hair and a broken nose. “The Baron,” Someone whispered.

                He was staring down at Lucrezia, his face unreadable. “My spotters saw my son’s flying machine, even though he is still back aboard Castle Wulfenbach. I can only assume that he sent his Mr. Wooster here to rescue you from me.”

                Tarvek shifted, “Rescue her?” he mumbled. Zeetha glanced down at him. His skin was clammy and his breath was coming out shallow and often. He was going into shock and Zeetha was surprised he was lucid enough to keep up with what was going on.

                The Baron ran his eyes over the crowd just as a large hairy man shifted in front of her. Zeetha’s lip twitched and she struggled to get a better view with Tarvek weighing her down.

                “It seemed a reasonable guess that you would turn up here,” his eyes glanced up at the rubble of the keep. “I would say that perhaps you do not need ‘rescuing’ but that seems to not be the case. You have asked for my help, and I offer it. It will be best if you step forward now—best for everyone.”

                Zeetha could see guards begin to circle the wagons, and the people she was grouped with, a threat, but also reasonable considering the message. As far as The Baron was aware she was trapped, there were no wasped people here, or else they would be out for her blood. Except—

                Tarvek gripped her shirt, his face a worrying pale. “The Wasp,” he breathed. “She still has the wasp!” Zeetha’s head shot up and she pushed Tarvek into the arms of a strange man with one horn on his head, before jumping into the crowd in front of her.

                He blinked down at Tarvek, “Vo are hyu?” he asked.

                Tarvek blinked. “Tarvek.” He slurred, his grip on reality failing. The Horned-Man frowned.

                “Prince Tarvek?” he asked.

                “Yes… I… uh, think so?” Tarvek slumped up against him, unable to keep up any of his own weight. The Horned-Man shrugged.

                “Goot enough for me!”

                The people had crowded together tightly, and the soldiers were herding them even denser, so it was a difficult battle to push through, but as Lucrezia took a single step forward, Zeetha managed to burst out of the crowd and into the small clearing around Lucrezia. Lucrezia looked back at her, her face warping into one of annoyance and irritation. The Baron stared down, eyes wide.

 

                The first thing he noticed was the green hair. Which was not a perfect indicator of all thing Skifandrian, more than once he had double-taked over constructs or even a couple of the Jägers, to his embarrassment. Next was her golden skin, which fit in perfectly with the tones that the Skifandrians tended to have. After that it was her stance, battle ready if off balance, even though to the untrained eye it was nothing special.

                Then as she lifted her head, the light of the fading sun caught a thin strip of steel that surrounded her neck, and under it a thick wad of bandages. Her body was adorned in a modified Stumhulten Guard uniform.

                It was his missing Skifandrian girl, and now he knew what had happened to her.

                “YOU!” he barked.

 

                Zeetha recovered from her slight stumble only to jump as The Baron turned his attention on to her with a shout. Her jaw dropped as she tried to catch up to what was going on.

                “Djorok’ku skifandias von?”

                Zeetha stared for a moment as her brain tried to conceptualize that somebody was actually speaking Skiff to her. She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. “Ah… ah… Zur bakken Skiff.” Was all she could say past her abused throat, before she shook off her stupor. “Zur Ladu ort Skifander Udon?” She asked, not carrying how much it hurt to do so, not carrying how badly she was pleading.

                Lucrezia jumped around to glare at her. “You _can_ speak,” she snarled under her breath.

                The Baron looked completely surprised, swallowing whatever he was about to say. The mix of fear and hope in her eyes was unsettling “Kar Mor Ladu Skifander udon.” He said as if he was holding back a roar. He pointed a finger. “Braka na Zantabr– !” Suddenly he choked and Zeetha stared in dismay as she suddenly remembered the reason she had fought her way up here in the first place.

                Lucrezia smirked and shoved the activated mini hive back under her jacket. “Got you!” she whispered before glancing subtly back to the stunned Zeetha with a humorless grin. “And you, Inpulsa!”

                Zeetha seized back into the crowd, several different sets of arms reaching out to stop her from falling. She didn’t quite black out this time, but her sight vanished for a moment, before drifting back in splotches as she was set back on her feet, leaning on the same hairy man who had blocked her sight earlier, confused mummers around her.

                By this point Lucrezia was over The Baron, who was breathing again, loosening his jacket. A long, heavy blink and suddenly she was holding something, a small jewelry box.

                “Why it has a Heterodyne sigil on it. Was this for _me?_ ” She asked, projecting her voice. Opening it she found a large golden trilobite locket. She looked at it in admiration. “Why dear K— Baron you think of everything.”

                There was more words, much quieter this time, then Klaus stopped talking and allowed Lucrezia to help him up, his face smiling, grateful even, but without any actual emotion what so ever. The soldiers cheered and Zeetha could hear some of the performers sigh in relief.  She just stared blankly, exhaustion sneaking up on her, her neck burning, everything was falling apart, _had_ fallen apart.

                Lucrezia turned and smiled at the crowd, and then proceeded to put the locket on. A strange look took over her face.

                Zeetha watched as Klaus swept up his broadsword, its design strangely familiar, with defeat. She had failed Agatha, and as much as she hated to admit it, it was better if she died. She would want to die than be controlled by Lucrezia.

                That was when a young man jumped from the crowd and took the sword for her. Zeetha winched as an arc of his blood flew. The Baron stood atop the young man, his face set into a deep scowl. “Damn fool,” he muttered kicking his body. His eyes locked with Lucrezia’s except—

                “Kill the Girl!” he roared.

                Except her body language wasn’t Lucrezia’s.

                “Kill her companions if you must!”

                Lucrezia would never look that way towards the body of someone who just saved her life, total despair and horror graced her features as she fell to her knees. She shifted and the light glittered on her locket and suddenly Zeetha realized what she was seeing. The locket had brought Agatha back. She was Agatha again.

                “Kill Them All!”

                Zeetha stormed forward, adrenalin smashing away any trace of weariness or pain. In a flying leap she kicked The Baron in the jaw and away from Agatha. Behind her chaos irrupted as the monster-men drew their weapons and charged, the performers scattering, and soldiers raised their guns.

                “Nim! Ni Tok! Mor yor pahar!”<Stop! Stop Fighting! I can help!> She yelled out, her voice wavering even as she barely felt the pain.She danced as best she could around The Baron’s swings, knowing full well that any attempt to parry could end with a broken arm. The un-familiarness of the blade haunted her every step. It had been over three years since she held a blade at all, longer since she held one with a vertical hilt, and the Geisterdamen sword was a strange weight to her. It was hard to tell, but every swing she threw was marginally off. She gritted her teeth; she was _so_ out of practice. At least she could say that the blood on him was not all from that poor man.

                And it didn’t help that this mountain of a man was stupidly agile for a man his size, his fighting style was familiar, almost—

                She dodged a swing with a roll.

                —Almost Skifandrian like. He spoke Skiff, he fought as if a Skifandrian warrior— forcefully she stopped herself from traveling down that road. It could be done later… if she was still alive. Zeetha grimaced as a slash cut through her arm; her jacket was nothing but shreds at this point. Fighting like a Skifandrian—she could work with that.

                She just hoped he had less practice fighting against other Skifandrians than she did. She jumped up from a crouch with another kick that had him flying back; a slash fallowing weakened the arm that was holding his sword. Not by much, but she would take all she could get.

                He glared at her. “Zur Lucrezia tok ra!” <You fight for Lucrezia>. His swing came down hard.

                “Ni nit oh dala! Mor Agatha tok ra.”<Don’t be insulting! I fight for Agatha.> Her throat stuttered and she forced herself to swallow.

                “Si ohsar ohit paluku.”<The girl has been lost.>

                “KARNI! Sot Pahumlee tall jayerni, Zur ni nit natas.” <NO! The locket brought her back, don’t you see.> This time her voice squeaked, her panting was making it worse. It was about to go out. She gritted her teeth.

                He hesitated for just a second and Zeetha purposely didn’t take the opening he gave her. Unfortunately he did not seem convinced and resumed fighting. Zeetha snorted out of her nose in frustration.

                Around them soldiers were falling back from the monster-men and firing from a distance, and giant clanks were stomping in, machine guns whirling to speed.

                The Baron threw his sword. Zeetha was stunned enough that she barely dodged it and as such got plowed to the ground by his accompanying tackle. He pinned her with a large hand, feelings and images flashing through her mind That. She. Did. Not. Want. With his other hand he held a knife to her throat, its tip slipping in between the collar and the bandages. She hissed in pain from even that much contact, the adrenalin and the painkillers wearing off. She struggled to breathe and keep herself together as The Baron loomed. “Ni Tok!” he ordered, offering her Honorable Surrender of all things, a warrior’s last choice. “Zur ven yor? NI TOK!” <You want to help? SURRENDER!>

                She had more experience then she liked of being forcibly pinned down by men and with a snarl she twisted and kicked and threw him and his massive bulk off her. For a second he looked rather impressed, before he turned grim. The chance for Honorable Surrender was over. The two of them lunged for their swords and stood, pausing for just a second to examine their opponent. Not a single outsider tried to intervene.

                And that’s when the music started, and with it the rumbling.

                Zeetha wasn’t sure which of them broke focus first, but the site of every wagon that surrounded them shifting up onto new legs, and as the Clanks fired at them, tiny little robots, Agatha’s robots, blasting out and attacking, she felt justified in getting distracted, if briefly. She took cover as a chunk of wood splashed down form where she was standing. When she looked up the Baron was over by his soldiers, barking orders.

                She didn’t actually want to kill him if she didn’t have to. What really mattered at the moment was finding Agatha and getting out of here. She hadn’t a clue where Tarvek got off to but she would have to hope for the best.

                She dashed through the chaos, barely managing to not get flattened by a falling egg bigger than her head from a flying—she had no idea what that was but it should not be flying. She _really_ preferred Skifander, she thought as she dodged another crazy attack from one of the wagons. At least their wagons were normal. Europa was weird.

                So much music had surrounded Agatha that Zeetha wasn’t surprised to find her at the origins of the music. She sat on the bench, her shoulder hunched, pounding the keys of the strange piano.

                “Leave!” Zeetha yelped, touching Agatha’s shoulder. Her voice cracked and brought tears to her eyes.

                Agatha waved her away. “You Go!”

                Zeetha blinked. “Huh?”

                “You go,” she explained patiently as if Zeetha was a small child. “Go while you can.” She looked at Zeetha, a truly terrifying maniacal grin on her face. “Lars was my—my friend, and he died because of me.” She whispered through her grin as she turned back to the piano.

                “He’s dead and I can’t even try to fix it—not here, not with The Baron trying to kill all my friends.” Tears began to drip down her face, and yet the grin stayed.

                “So you go, get everyone out of here. I’m staying; I’m going to take out The Baron. And. He. Wont. Ever. Hurt. Anyone. I. Ever. Care. About. Again. Each word was punctuated with a slamming of the keys. Zeetha could hears screaming from outside.

                Zeetha backed up a step before setting her jaw, it had been a long time since she dealt with a strong Spark deep in the madness place, but she had once constantly been assigned the job of pulling her mother from it. She could do this.

                It would help if she had her voice though.

                Her hands were set to grab at Agatha’s shoulders when a pie of all things flew in and smacked Agatha in the face. She paused. Zeetha stared. An older man leaned in. “So how do you feel?” He asked.

                Agatha slowly wiped off some of the custard. “Pretty calm actually Taki—.”

                Zeetha continued to stare.

                Taki cheered with a jump. “Yes!” He shouted. “Extra butter! Less nutmeg! I am a genius! Take that Brillat-Savarin!”

                Zeetha gave up on staring; it wasn’t helping her make any sense of the situation, and face-palmed.

                A splash of water hit her when she wasn’t looking. She looked up to realize Agatha had taken the brunt of it. “You idiots, she was fine! Now she’ll—“ Taki started on the standing-cat and the horned-man she had dumped Tarvek on earlier.

Agatha raised a finger. “No, no…still calm.”

                Taki blinked. “Really? Um…”

                Of course that was when The Baron had to make an appearance, rounding around a wagon with one of the large clank guns in his hands. “There you are.” He swung the cannon up and fired. “DIE!”

                Everyone ducked around the large piano except Agatha who watched hundreds of bullets fly by her with mild interest. “Astonishing still calm,” she remarked as several hands reached up to pull her down. Behind the piano all they could do was watch as the wood splintered around them from the onslaught of bullets.

                “Hmm, I don’t suppose you have a calming pie for him?” Agatha asked distantly, finally beginning to look a bit perturbed as she watched the wood buckle.”

                Taki thought for a second, “I don’t think I could bake one big enough,” he admitted.

                With a splitting shatter the music stopped dead. Agatha eyes narrowed calmly. “Uh-oh.”

                Zeetha and Taki glanced at her. “What?” he asked.

                “I was using the organ to control the wagon clanks. Without the music to guide them I don’t know what they might do. They could run amok. This could get bad.”

                And to think, Zeetha had just been worried about the bullets getting past, great.

                “Run amok—“ Taki twitched. “You mean more than they already are? Is that possible?”

                Zeetha grimaced at the phrasing, bad luck that, while Agatha nodded. “It can always get worse, though on the other hand they might just lock—“

                A large crash drowned out the rest of Agatha’s words and the machine fire cut off. After a few tenses moments, Zeetha peaked out, one hand on Agatha’s head to keep her from doing the same.

                She let her go. In front of her were the crashed remnants of the… flying whatever that had been, crashed remnants exactly where The Baron had once stood. Zeetha grimaced as the walking, and apparently talking, cat jumped from behind the barrel and tried and failed to move the house off him.

                “Get it off him!” He ordered at the three monster-men who ambled up causally. They stared at him, and then, as one, looked over at Agatha. “If the Baron is dead there will be chaos!” He declared in annoyance. “But if word gets out that you killed him the Empire will hold together just long enough to kill you!”

                The cat’s reasoning was sound, which was something Zeetha never thought she would ever think in her life, so she stumbled over to the house, willing to lend a hand to the monster-men who had been given permission by Agatha, only to be stunned as they easily pushed the house aside.

                Agatha jumped down into the small crater to check over the battered form of The Baron. “He’s alive, don’t ask me how. He needs medical attention. More than I can give him.” She looked around. “Wulfenbach troops always carry medical kits with them, where are they anyway?”

                Zeetha stepped to the side and quickly patted through a downed Wulfenbach solider, a quick look at his face telling her it wasn’t the Medic who had been—what— _nice_ to her, treated her like a human being, it was sad that that was such a novelty. She stood medical kit and canteen in hand, and stepped back to the others, wiping some blood off it as she went.

                Agatha was out of the crater and talking with a man in goggles. She eyed him for a second before jumping into the crater to take a look of The Baron herself. There was a lot wrong she couldn’t fix, but she could at least stem some of the bleeding so he lived long enough to meet with actual medics.

                She got to work as Agatha talked above her. Using The Baron’s knife she sliced chunks of her ruined jacket off, and then wiped away some of the blood, using the canteen to wash out the worst of his cuts. She knew how to structure up wounds, but it didn’t seem worth it, not with medics on the way, so instead she grabbed for the gauze and the bandages.

                She looked up as she shifted his arm to better wrap a bandage around him and nearly dropped it as she realized he was watching her, his eye half closed. “Who are you?” He asked in Romanian, his voice faint. Zeetha stared at him for a moment before getting back to work. “Why are you here?”

                “I am Zeetha,” she said as she as she tightened a bandaged over one of his wounds, making a face as her Romanian comes out clipped, strange, and faded. She may have regained her ability to speak it, but it did not come easy. And that was before you took into account just how damaged her throat was. He grunted as she paused to knot the bandage. “…Daughter of Chump,” she finished, glancing at his face briefly, only to realize he had passed out.

                That was around the time she realized that one of the strange men, the one with green skin, was standing above her.


	15. In Which Zeetha leaves Stumhulten

                He watched her as she finished up the last of the bandages, the best she could do in this scenario, and then offered her a hand out of the crater. She quirked an eyebrow, but accepted, and he pulled her up.

                “Hy’m Dimo,” he told her in thickly accented Romanian. “Hyu saved my Lady”

                Zeetha blinked. “Agatha?” She tried to say but no sound came out but a painful squeak. She winced; her voice had finally left her. Thankfully Dimo seemed capable of reading lips as he nodded, his gaze darting to her neck. In his hand was in another medical kit, obviously he had the same idea as she did.

                “Our ride iz here,” he continued, glancing up at—

                Zeetha jerked in surprise as above her was several towering figures. Someone to her side was yelling as more mist cloaked the town.

                “The Heterodyne Brothers have returned!”

                She stared. There were two barely humanoid shadows lumbering towards her.

                “And Lucrezia!”

                A figure looking almost identical to Agatha stood arm in arm with one of the shadowed figures, her merciless smirk adorning her face.

                “And even the High Priestess!”

                Zeetha jolted, as High Priestess Maru came into focus, leaning up against the other shadow. The Woman who constantly argued and fought with her mother, the Woman who despised her presence, the Woman who would happily champion for her death, the Woman who likely was the reason her father fled—“

                Zeetha froze, staring up in shock as her mouth went to ash and her brain shut down. The huge figures were getting closer, to her, to Agatha who stood not ten meters in front of her. Two of them woman who had haunted her life, High Priestess Maru, before in Skifander, and now Lucrezia. She shook.

                Dimo was beside her. “Ve hef to go! Dat’s our ride!” he was pointing up above the figures, into the drifting mist. For a second Zeetha saw a hovering airship before it faded again. She blinked and swallowed (oh why did she have to do that, ow, ow), and nodded.

                That’s when the Horned-Man came up beside them. Zeetha’s still stunned eyes landed on him.

                “Dis iz zum schow,” he remarked, gazing up at the figures. Dimo shoved him.

                “Schot up Oggie, vere iz Maxim?”

                “He comink.”

                Zeetha pointed a finger into the Oggie’s face, “Tar-“ her voice cut out with a choke and she scowled.

                “Huh?” he asked.

                “He’s fine,” Dimo said as he started pushing her towards where the figures, as well as Agatha and some others were rising in to the sky. “Gots him aboard already, de message saeed he vas helpink de Mistress, zo ve gots him safe.”

                Zeetha nodded. Dimo reached out into the fog and grasped on to something, then handed it to her. Zeetha blinked and realized she was holding a rope, and with that several ropes blurred into focus around her. She gritted her teeth and climbed after Agatha.

                Several performers, as well as one of the shadows, pulled her into the airship. Zeetha winced away from the shadowed man, who looked faintly concerned, before another woman walked over and blew some dust into her face. Zeetha sneezed, nearly blacked out, and when she opened her eyes again the shadows, High Priestess Maru, and Lucrezia were gone, and in their place was several performers.

                “Are you alright?” the woman in front of her asked. She had a noble and graceful aura around her and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Zeetha nodded slowly. “Good, I am Countess Marie, My Husband and I are the leaders of this show, I thank you for helping protect one of ours.” Zeetha nodded again and looked away, rubbing at her head. The Countess looked apologetic. “I don’t know what you saw but I am sorry—” whatever she had been about to say was cut short as Agatha burst into tears.

                “Agatha what’s—?“ A man with a prosthetic leg standing next to her asked.

                “Lars is dead!” She cried. “I—I… because of me!”

                A sudden hush fell over the performers. Zeetha closed her eyes… Lars, his name had been Lars.

                “He… he— The Baron… I” She choked. “He jumped right in… I didn’t ask him to, I—“

                “No one asks for anything like that,” another man said from the doorway. His voice was firm and it filled the room. “But he gave it. Lars always played the Hero.” He put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder. “You made him want to be the real thing.” he faced the room. “And that’s how I’ll remember him.”

                Agatha took a deep breath. “Me too. Thank you.”

                The Countess smiled sadly, and then she clapped her hands. “All right, we’ll talk about this later. Now we must deal with the present. We have an airship to run and know remarkably little about how to do it.”

                The man Agatha had been talking to earlier stepped forward. “I may be able to help with that,” He stated. “Madam, I am Ardsley Wooster, or her Majesty’s secret service. I am quite familiar with Wulfenbach engineering.”

                The Countess nodded. “Good, Yeti take him to the engine room, I’m sure Captain Kadiiski will be pleased to see him.” She then turned to Agatha and said not unkindly, “You should come with me.”

                “Right behind hyu Sveethot,” Dimo said with a rise of his cap and a wiggle of his eyebrows. The Countess took on a pinched look and led Agatha away, muttering under her breath about Jägers.

                Zeetha followed after her, partly because she didn’t know what else to do with herself, and partly because the two Jäger that surrounded her made to go, and so she was caught up in the crowd. As they walked she caught Dimo eyeing her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, her shoulder rising in a sad attempt to hide the collar.

                “Hy know zum medical schtuff,” he started. “Maybe hy schould check dat out—“ his hand raised, and Zeetha flinched away before realizing that he was only pointing, and hadn’t been attempting to encroach on her personal space. She shook her head slightly and stepped to the side. She appreciated the offer but… well… She would check it herself later.

                “Vell if hyu say so,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

                They all entered the Bridge to find a large man with a deep full beard, dressed in colorful clothing, sitting in the Captain’s chair, and also looking happier than Zeetha could remember seeing anyone look. Glancing around, Zeetha vaguely wondered how they managed to empty the airship so well. What had happened to the crew?

                Agatha seemed to relatively be on the same track of thought. “Is this really a Wulfenbach airship?”

                The Countess sighed. “Oh, Yes. It was _remarkably_ easy to steal.” She carefully didn’t look towards her husband, though her voice gained several decibels without apparent effort. “But then, who would be fool enough to _try_!”

                Oggie, who had wondered off to examine his reflection in some polished brass, turned to the man in the Captain’s chair with a grin. “Hey! Iz like hyu wife iz callink hyu a _fool_ witout ektually—“

                He glared at him. “You cannot _possibly_ be as stupid as you _act_.”

                The Jäger considered this. “Ken if I _vants_ to be!”

                He ignored him and turned back to his wife and began what seemed like a debate on the surface, but Zeetha could tell was truly an argument from the little body language they let off. An argument that lasted quite awhile, especially since it had to be pushed aside a few times as the husband was forced to bring his attention to navigating the airship.

                “Ordinarily, stealing one of The Barons’ airships wouldn’t be my first choice. But I want us to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible!” He defended just as Mr. Wooster rejoined them, cleaning his hands with a rag.

                He was a spy, for a place called England, Zeetha thought, though she wasn’t sure, she heard all sorts of snippets of politics at the castle, but she didn’t often pay much attention to them. She hadn’t enjoyed politics in Skifander, back where things made sense.

                He shook his head. “It won’t do any good. They’ll be hunting us down.” He paused and looked uncertain. “In fact… they should already be in pursuit.” He stared at the man with some suspicion. “What did you do?”

                With a theatrical sweep of his hand the airship turned sharply and the chaos that was Balan’s gap appeared below. Everyone gasped. From here they could see lines of solders against a small horde of townspeople, the ones The Lucrezias got to, Zeetha suspected, and even worse, Gloopy neon green monsters were swarming out of the wells and houses, gleefully scooping up Townspeople and Soldiers alike.

                The other airships around them were too busy to pay any attention to them, locked in battle with ground forces with efficient anti-aircraft capabilities. Many were burning and as they watched one of the dreadnaughts slowly dropped to the ground trailing a ball of blue flames.

                He motioned to the chaos below with another theatrical gesture, before spinning the wheel back and the view slowly shifted from sight. Zeetha glanced down and blinked in surprise. Master Payne, Zeetha realized belatedly, as in Master Payne’s circus, that was who he was.

                “ _We_ did _Nothing_!” Payne said. “But with all that fighting, along with those monsters, The Baron’s forces have some battle in their hands, they don’t have time to be chasing after us.” Not to mention The Baron being out and unable to give orders for a chase, Zeetha added mentally. “No matter _who_ we’re carrying.”

                Zeetha looked up to find that most the people on deck had turned their eyes to Agatha. The two Jägers bristled a bit and shifted their weight, eyeing the rest of the crowd.

                “I didn’t do that!” Agatha paused, and then continued uncertainty. “Did I?” The room went quite.

                Zeetha stepped forward. “No.” She tried to say. It came out barely more than a whistle and it could barely be understood. Master Payne also stepped forward and looked her deeply in the eye. After a moment he placed a calming hand on her shoulder and squeezed. As one the tension in the room popped.

                “The message you sent out is worrisome,” he told her kindly. “So forgive us for being suspicious, but no, you didn’t, not unless you can control those monsters to fight for you.”

                Agatha blew a lock of hair out of her eyes, “Of c _ourse_ not—“

                “Hoy Dimo!” the Purple-Jäger cried as he strode into the bridge. “Hyu made it op dot rope pretty fast wit only vun hand.”

                “Ha!” Dimo shrugged. “Dot becawze Hy used my brains.”

                Both Oggie and the Purple-Jäger looked impressed. “Eww!” they said together. “Messy.”

                “What am I talking about of course I can!” Agatha cried, ignoring the three clowns behind her. “I mean, they don’t look like they could be wasped but who knows, I sure don’t! And I have this huge block of time I don’t remember. First I’m recording the message and then…” She trailed off a bit and glanced at Zeetha who looked down in shame. “ My message helped but I think it was—Destroyed? And I lost again, and then I’m waking up and The Baron is trying to kill me and Lars—“

                Her voice rose in pitch and hysterics. Zeetha glanced at Taki who shook his head and showed her his bare hands.

                “Take me back! I could control the wasp on Castle Wulfenbach, and these are her monsters too! I bet I can control them as well. I could stop this!” The room went silent as everyone stared at her blankly.

                Dimo cleared his throat, an apprehensive look on his face. “Dot iz not soch a goot idea, Lady. Hyu dun know dese monsters. Dey could be anybody’s. Ve saw dem in the sewers. Iz seemed like dey been dere for avile.

                “Eefen if hyu could use hyu voice to get dem all riled op, Hy dun tink hyu could get dem to calm beck down. Monsters like dot, ven dey gets goink, dey ain’t nottink bot killink machines.”

                Oggie spoke up. “Jah, und not effen goot lookink vuns like uz.”

                Dimo stared at him levelly for a moment and then just continued. “Huy’z better let De Baron deal mit dis. IZ vot he dozz.”

                Agatha looked at him in frustration. “But I _squished_ him with a _chicken house_!” There was a gasp around the room and Agatha looked sheepish. “Did I forget to mention that…”

                Dimo waved his hand reassuringly. “A leddle ting like dot? Oh shoo—“ He stopped and rethought, then sighed. “He’z a bit messed op, but he gun be fine! Hy Vatched her giff him de first aid.” He pointed at Zeetha who shrunk from all the stares. “Deed a goot job too.”

                For a second everyone stopped to consider what a Jäger would consider good first aid.

                Agatha cracked first. “Turn this thing around!” She screamed. Zeetha crossed her arms and shot Dimo a pout. He shrugged apolitically.

                “Hy meant iz az a complement,” he muttered to her.

                Everyone else flinched. Agatha’s voice was giving off harmonics that normally would send people running for the hills. Combined with her frantic movements and overall air of barely contained fury, several people were seriously considering jumping ship.

                The Cat though stayed firm, and walked right up to Agatha. “Ain’t gonna happen,” He said firmly.

                “It wasn’t a request!” Agatha seethed through clenched teeth, her head falling into her hands. “This is all—all my fault—I have to do something!”

                Someone with working vocal cords really needed to get it through Agatha’s thick skull that what Lucrezia did with her body wasn’t her fault, Zeetha decided as Agatha began to waver. Obviously she had forgotten Tarvek advice to stay calm.

                She snapped upright and screamed in defiance. “I’m going to go down there and personally punch every monster in the snoot.” She gave an example into the air, which showed a horrible lack of form or training, enough so that it made Zeetha wince. Obviously Agatha had no training at all in fighting. Thumbs _did not_ go on the inside of the fist. She turned to The Cat and snarled “And don’t try and stop me.”

                “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied blandly. Agatha froze for a moment and Zeetha could have sworn she could hear several gears pop out of place. Emotions flickered across her face so fast that Zeetha couldn’t even attempt to read them until Agatha finally settled on bone deep fury. “WHY NOT—“

                “Because,” he said with a sigh and a sniff. “From what I can smell you’re about to…” he trailed off meaningfully.

                “Do What—?“

                Agatha froze, a dull peculiar look came over her face and she began to teeter.

                “Hy gots hyu!” Dimo cried leaping for her. Apparently the loss of his left arm was recent, considering he attempted to catch Agatha with it. She face-planted the floor with a thud. Zeetha winched and then gave Dimo a deadpanned stare.

                And then, out of almost nowhere, a snore drifted up from the body.

                Maxim gave her a slight nudge with his toe, and then grinned at Dimo. “Should haff used hyu brains _dot_ time, too.”

                Dimo glowered at him as he attempted to scoop her up with one arm. “Shot! Op!” He shrugged his left shoulder in annoyance. “Hy gets a new vun soon.”

                Maxim nodded. “A new brain? Iz about time.”

                “Enough!” The Countess clapped her hands. Everyone turned to look at her. “Someone needs to put her to bed.”

                “Hy gots her,” Dimo complained. The Countess looked at him levelly.

                “Someone who is not a male and can put her _comfortably_ to bed.”

                “Oh…”

                Zeetha, who had wandered over to check that Agatha hadn’t broken her nose, straightened and pointed at herself. The Countess looked at her sternly for a moment.

                “Frankly I would prefer if you stayed here and told us just what happened,” she finally said glancing at her beat up and torn Stumhulten guard uniform. Her jacket almost gone, large chunks of it ripped out to clean The Barons wounds. Zeetha winced at that, she was pretty sure talking was the one thing he shouldn’t do right now, probably couldn’t even do right now.

                “She ken’t talk,” Oggie said trying to be helpful. He pointed at his neck. Everyone glanced at it, and after a moment their eye’s drifted to Zeetha’s. Zeetha leaned back and ducked her head, but her collar and bandages were still easy to see. For a moment it was quite. Zeetha refused to look up from the floor.

                “Pix!” The Countess called. A blond girl near the back of the crowd, the one who had been playing Lucrezia, stepped forward.

                “Yeah?”

                “Why don’t you help our new companion put Agatha to bed?” Obviously they didn’t trust her with Agatha alone, Zeetha approved. Pix looked at her and nodded.

                They didn’t try to take Agatha from Dimo since it was readily apparent that the three Jägers were going to follow anyway. After a bit of searching, in which they were almost run over by a bunch of overly excited children dashing through the halls, they found an officers room not too far from the bridge to set her up in. It was cramped but it had a real bed and even a small chair one could sit in.

                Zeetha had to be thankful, maybe it was because she knew she couldn’t respond, but Pix didn’t say anything, let alone ask questions. The two simply got to work, striping Agatha down to her underwear and checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt anywhere to badly. Thankfully the worst she seemed to have were a few bruises and the minor track marks from the horrendous amount of stimulants Lucrezia had pumped into her. The sleep would do her good.

                Zeetha made double sure that the locket stayed on. Pix gave her a strange look but didn’t say anything.

                It was only as the two went to leave that Pix stopped short, turned on her heal, and pointed a finger into Zeetha’s face. “Agatha is my friend.” She said slowly and evenly. “If you hurt her, I will hurt you, got it!”

                Zeetha blinked but nodded slowly. Pix huffed and left the room. Zeetha waited for a moment, glanced one last time at Agatha, and followed.

                She was stopped by the Jägers

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note about the excited children. though it dosn't look like it in the comics, several moments in the second novel refers to their being quite a few children traveling with the circus.
> 
> Also I love the Circus "magic" act. Since the dust depends on the viewer to add in the details I had a lot of fun figuring out what Zeetha would see. She knows about the Boys but that's it's he has never really thought about what they looked like, so they appear as a void almost. She has a very different view on Lucrezia than most of the townspeople, and also sees her much more like Agatha. While as for the High Priestess, unlike most people, she actually knows one, so in such is seeing her very differently than anyone else is.
> 
> Also I love the Jagers, but their accents suck a lot.


	16. In which our girls gain some warrior symbols.

                “Hoy!” Dimo said from where he leaned against the wall across from her. Zeetha paused and examined him as well as the two that sandwiched the doorframe. Her eyes snapped back at Dimo with some concern. They didn’t seem to be hostile…

                “Don’ look like dat ve’re friendly!” the Purple-One grinned. “Ot least for now. Hy’m Maxim.”

                Dimo rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. Ve gots somtink for hyu.”

                Zeetha raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t sure if she wanted anything from the Jägers. The way the others, except Agatha, acted around them, and the few bits of tibblets she had heard of them over the years, made her a bit wary. Yet her own personal experience, as few as they were, led to her finding them funny, loyal and protective. To be honest they kind of reminded her of some of the people she had left at home.

                “Yop see! A new Jacket! De vun hyu hef iz keend uf beat op.” Oggie grinned holding up a white airman jacket. Its collar had been adjusted a little bit, propped up with a few well-placed stitches. She took it from him with some surprise.

                “Vatz dot look for,” Dimo said. “How do hyu tink ve keep our hatz in soch goot shape.”

                She stared at him, and then smiled faintly with a painful nod. She shucked the rags she was wearing and pulled it on. The collar had been propped up to hide her neck but also wasn’t tight. It looked strange but Zeetha could care less. She smiled wider.

                “Hyu velcome,” Dimo said with a toothy but friendly grin. “Consider it danks for lookink after our Mistress.” He pointed down the hall. “If hyu lookink for hyu friend, he in de room at de end uf de hall, dey hed zomeone lookink at him earlier.”

                Zeetha stopped herself from nodding again and departed with a wave.

                She peeked into Tarvek’s room, and seeing nobody there, entered fully. Tarvek laid asleep on another bed. In several places he had been bandaged up. She expected he also had quite a few stitches as well. After a quick glance proved to her that he seemed alright, she approached a small mirror that hung above a washbowl.

                Zeetha looked at herself. She had deep bruises under her eyes and her face was stiffened by the constant pain that becoming difficult to pretend didn’t exist. On her right temple was a deepening bruise, ugly but harmless. Taking a deep breath she took off her jacket and dumped the pile of rags her other jacket was on the small table the washbowl sat on.

                By some miracle her pockets were still functional, and everything she had fit in there was still there. Carefully she pulled out the Medicine, as well as her handkerchief. They had left a medical kit in the room, and there was still a roll of bandages and gauze left. She grabbed those and returned to the mirror.

                Even with the bandages still on her neck was a mess. Light burns arched up above where the collar stood, going all the way up under her chin. With a quick movement she pushed the collar up higher and checked under it. The burns were worse but nothing to worry about.

                It was what was under the bandage that was the problem.

                Quickly Zeetha opened one of the burn cream jars and lathered all the minor burns she had. There was no reason to leave them untreated. Then she paused, her hand hovering right next to the bandages.

                This was going to suck.

                Steeling herself she quickly unwrapped the bandages, keeping the collar up with her other hand. What she saw when she was done nearly made her sick. She had been injured before, badly even, but before her years in Stumhulten she never really had to deal with burns.

                She forced her breath to stay even, if only because it hurt less that way, and then she wet her handkerchief and wiped her neck clean. Lights danced in front of her eyes but she grit her teeth and bared it. Once that was done she carful applied a small dosage of Tarvek numbing cream. To her surprise, by the time she had finished, the side of her neck she had started at already felt much better. This stuff was potent; no wonder Tarvek had told her to use it carefully. After that she smoothed on the burn cream.

                Numbing cream or not, putting on the bandages still hurt and by the time she was done sweat had begun to drip down her forehead. For a minute she leaned against the small table and just breathed.

                Finally she steeled herself and stood. She wiped a re-soaked handkerchief along her forehead. A quick check showed her that other than the gash on her arm she was fine. She was rather proud in fact. She was pretty sure she got out of that fight in better condition than The Baron did.

                She was just wrapping a bandage around her arm when a moan behind her alerted her to the awaking Prince. She glanced behind her and then turned back to her work. Once she was done she approached the bed, snatching up Tarvek’s spectacles and carefully placing them on his face. He blinked up at her.

                “…Where?”

                Zeetha sighed. Of course he would ask the hardest question to answer silently first. Glancing around the cabin she spotted the Wulfenbach symbol on a left behind canteen. She picked it up and showed it to him. His face fell as much as it could in his state.

                “Captured then?” He looked like he was already planning. Zeetha shook her head no. Tarvek blinked at her like he couldn’t figure out what that meant. Then his eyes went wide

                “Agatha!”

                Zeetha made a hand signal for safe. He sighed in relief.

                “Not captured either?”

                Another shake no.

                “Good, but what about Lucrezia?” Zeetha scowled at the question, another hard one to answer. She was this close to going out and dragging someone to answer for her. Quickly she made two hand signals, ‘not’ and ‘here’. It was the best explanation she could give. Tarvek looked annoyed as well.

                “Can’t you just tell me—”

                Zeetha pointed at her throat harshly and Tarvek winced.

                “Right, right sorry.” He paused. “Can you speak at all?”

                Zeetha thought about that for a moment then shrugged. She hoped she hadn’t done any permanent damage, but she had no idea. Tarvek sighed.

                “You said Agatha was safe,” he muttered, his eyes already starting to close again. “Are we?”

                Zeetha hesitated for a second, and then nodded once. He let out a sigh. She waited until he was fully asleep before repacking all her things, or at least trying to, the pocket in this jacket were too small and shallow to hold her stuff. She scowled and looked around the room until she found a small bag she could hook to her belt. After threading it through she packed up her stuff and left Tarvek to sleep.

                The Jägers were still surrounding Agatha’s door. She paused. She was pretty sure it was the locket that shut down Lucrezia, how she had no idea, but putting it on had released Agatha. Someone should probably be around to make sure she didn’t take it off.

                She turned down a hallway and went searching for a pair of clean clothes in Agatha’s size. What she found was a bit big but close enough. She returned to Agatha’s room with them. The Jägers spotted her coming and eyed her. She showed Dimo the clothes.

                He stared at them for a bit, and then up at her. “Hyu gunna go in und keep an eye on her?” he asked blandly.

                Zeetha froze, and then nodded slowly.

                He examined her for a moment, and then shrugged. “Probably best she vake op to zumone after de last coople uf days.”

                Zeetha stared at him, feeling like she had just passed some test. Maxim even opened the door for her to go through.

                Agatha was still, thankfully, asleep. Hopefully she would be for a while. Zeetha dumped the clothes she carried onto a small table and dragged the chair closer to the bed. Sitting down she hooked her feet onto the bedframe, far enough from Agatha that she wasn’t intruding in on her personal space.

                If she was truthful to herself she was exhausted. It wouldn’t hurt anything if she dozed until Agatha awoke.

 

                It felt as if she had done nothing but blink, but the shuffling at her side told a different story. With a silent groan Zeetha pried open her eyes and allowed her head to lull to the side.

                Agatha was up. Zeetha would have been annoyed with that, but the early morning light coming in through the small porthole told her it had been hours since she had crashed.

                Agatha was staring distastefully at her reflection in the small mirror. As Zeetha watched her hand rose—

                Zeetha jumped up with a clatter, her chair flying, and grasped Agatha’s arm. “NO!”

                Agatha stumbled back a bit and stared at her like she had three heads. “Zeetha what—?”

                “Ni touch locket!” She demanded. “Stopped Lucrezia.”  Zeetha stopped and blinked. Oh, good, her voice was back, somewhat. It still cracked painfully, but at least she was capable of some communication.

                “Did it?” Agatha mused looking rather unhappy form that news. Her hand gently touched the locket, then she pulled it away to clench. She looked distressed. Zeetha carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

                Agatha hesitated then sighed. “My uncle made me this locket many years ago. It was supposed to protect me.” She laughed humorlessly. “And I guess it did. It kept me from violently breaking through like most Sparks do, but it did it by keeping me… stupid.”

                Her hand darted to her neck, stopping short only centimeters away from it. Her fingers arched in a way that said she would like nothing better than to rip it from her neck. Her face flickered. “It used to make me feel safe. Now whenever I think about it, it makes me _furious.”_

                She sat down hard onto the bed. “It’s a symbol of how awful my life was. The headaches. The inventions that never worked. The people who treated me like an idiot. All of that was because of this locket.” She pounded her fists onto her thighs. “This damned, stupid-making locket!”

                She then slumped and looked at Zeetha beseechingly. “But it did keep me safe. I _didn’t_ go mad. And now you’re saying it shut her down.” She ducked her head and rubbed at her temple. “I don’t know how to feel about this.”

                Zeetha sat down next to her and then hesitated, but Agatha looked so worn out and vulnerable that she carefully swung an arm over her shoulders. Agatha looked up in surprise but then smiled slightly. Zeetha allowed her stiff arm to relax. They sat in silence for a moment.

                “You don’t—” She stopped as her voice wavered, her face puckering with annoyance, and then simply tapped her forehead. Agatha stared at her for a second, and then her eyes went wide as she considered her question.

                “I feel good. I think this thing—” She flicked the locket with a fingernail— “Has been off for too long.” She paused again, “I… I can tell that my thinking has… slowed down a bit. I have to _concentrate_ more when I’m thinking hard, but it’s nothing like it was before. I think my mind as become too strong for it.”

                Zeetha nodded slowly. It was both something she had overcome, but also something that was making her work to become stronger.

                “A powerful symbol,” she told Agatha when she noticed the distressed look on her face. “Of things overcome, and make stronger.” That didn’t come out right, and Zeetha made a face. Her Romania was rusty and every word was a chore. Agatha needed to hear this though so she forged on. “Any warrior would cherish it. Meant to come to you.”

                Agatha huffed. “I don’t know how much of a warrior I am,” she muttered looking down at her hands. “But I hope your right, seeing as I can’t take it off.” Zeetha watched as Agatha took a deep breath and steeled herself. More of a warrior than she thought, though not quite there yet. Zeetha glanced away, thoughts darting past, of what she could do once she had the voice to explain it. Agatha was going to need it with what was coming, and she owed her everything.

                When she glanced back she found Agatha staring at her. In fact not just at her but as her neck. Zeetha shifted and raised a shoulder to try and cover it unconsciously, even though the jacket covered most of it already. Agatha frowned.

                “If my locket is a ‘Powerful Symbol,’ then shouldn’t your—uh—collar be one too?”

                Zeetha started, her hand coming up to hover close to her neck. She looked away from Agatha’s knowing look. She had never thought of it that way. The collar had always symbolized her slavery and lack of choice. Not to mention a shackle to a life of constant pain. But…

                With the proximity trigger taken out, it no longer shackled her to the castle. She was free to wander, capable of leaving at any time. Yes it would likely be months before anyone could attempt to get it off, but…

                It was now something she could work with, something she could work through.

                They sat in silence for a while, locked into their own thoughts. Until finally Agatha screwed up the courage and asked, “What happened back there? The two of you… I trusted you and…” She trailed off. Zeetha shifted guilty, taking back her arm. “And you let her take over.” By the end her voice was barely a whisper. “Why?”

                Zeetha sucked in a breath to respond, but the resulting pain had her wincing, holding up a finger, she dashed from the room. The three Jägers barely gave more than a board glace as she flew by. Tarvek’s room was empty, but she found him not much further, taking to Wooster.

                “I’m not completely hopeless, it didn’t take me that long once I knew the name to realize who he was,” Tarvek sniffed, trying hard to forget it had taken some help for him to connect Gil his pal and Gil his enemy. “What I’m curious about is how you—”

                “Zee—!” He yelped as she grabbed him by his unbandage arm and began to pull him back. “What are you—?” he tried to ask before giving up and just letting her pull him with a sigh. Wooster followed behind them curiously.

                Zeetha stopped at the door and turned to Dimo. With a finger she pointed to Wooster. “Spy.” She said blandly, before turning to him, and making a shooing motion. “Away.” Wooster looked lost. She then pushed Tarvek through the door, shutting it with a kick of her heel.

                Dimo stared bemusedly at the door for a second, before glancing at the confused Wooster. “Hy dink dese iz a priavet talk. Perhaps hyu should step back sum.” He smiled, a large smile that showed all his teeth, and Wooster took several steps back sweating. “Goot!”


	17. In which the party heads to Mechanicsburg

                An awkward silence filled the room, Tarvek and Agatha staring blankly at each other. Then Tarvek’s eyes darted down and his face went red. With a turn he shouted. “Sorry!”

                Agatha looked down and found herself in her underwear. “Zeetha!”

                Zeetha sighed with a wince. Okay, so she forgot about Europa overcooked sense of modesty. It’s not like she wasn’t fully covered, more so than most of Zeetha’s outfits back home, or that Tarvek hadn’t already seen her in her underwear. She shrugged in a half meant apology. Agatha glared and pulled on the clothes Zeetha had brought in last night.

                Once she was dressed she sat heavily down on the bed. With her arms crossed she asked, “Well…?”

                Tarvek turned carefully, making sure she was fully clothed, and blinked. “Well what?”

                “I asked Zeetha to tell me why the two of you _betrayed_ me,” she said frostily, Zeetha glanced to the floor. “And she ran out the door. Considering what I’ve heard of her voice, she was either looking for you or a piece of paper. Obviously she found _you_ first.”

                Tarvek’s face went white and a thousand and one excuses, plans, and schemes rushed through his head. Then he noticed Zeetha’s dark stare from where she leaned up against the wall. Physically recoiling he let out a heavy sigh and collapsed into the chair with a wince, the action pulling at several different sets of stitches.

                “Where… Where do you want me to start?”

                “How about why you short circuited my dingbots?”

                Tarvek flinched back at the venom in her voice. “I didn’t have a choice,” he pleaded. “Do you remember, just after you finished your machine, and I was against the message, what happened after that.”

                Agatha looked angry, but then paused, thinking back. “You shouted ‘no’ and pulled me into a hug and then… ”A look of horror flickered across her face.

                Tarvek looked ashamed. “I let myself get worked up into a mad rant,” he admitted with some self-loathing. He hated falling into the madness place. “I didn’t realize until after I already said to much that, even with your little clanks, she had taken over. I—” he blushed.

                “…What did you tell her?” Agatha asked thoughtfully.

                Tarvek’s blush deepened as he went back over his words. “Ah— well I don’t remember it exactly but… To be honest it was mostly about me being the Storm heir and um…” he trailed off and briefly glanced at Zeetha, hoping she would let him get away with not saying more. Her deadpanned stare and tapping fingers didn’t reassure him much.

                “To say the least she realized you were taking control, and that I had been working with you. So she gave me an offer and—”

                “Offer of what?”

                “Eh… To rule the Empire once she took it.”

                “And you agreed!” Agatha shouted. “Do you realize—”

                “Of course I realize what she would do to it!” Tarvek shouted back. “But it was either that or _die_ , and what good would that have done. Me taking that offer is what gave me the chance to save your machine, to let you record your massage, it’s what gave me a chance to _plan!_ ”

                Agatha’s anger drained away and she slumped. “How did you manage that?”

                Tarvek sighed. “Took the deal, stretched the truth, flattered her a bit, and told her I could ah… rework the message to our benefit.” He frowned. “Oh and also kept it in my lab instead of on the roof, the Geisterdamen wouldn’t have let me get it up their anyway.” His face fell. “Kind of wished I tried though. My poor castle.”

                “But you didn’t.” Agatha paused and realized she hadn’t paid any attention to her message as it had been playing. “Did you?”

                Tarvek was unable to hide his look of shame. “No.”

                Agatha stared at him. “… But you thought of it!”

                Tarvek looked down and sighed. “Hear me out Agatha, do you realize what could have happened had Lucrezia heard that message. Zeetha and I, we would have been killed instantly. Its pure luck that things worked out as it did.”

                The look on Agatha’s face told Zeetha that she hadn’t thought of that at all. Zeetha to be honest, considered her, and Tarvek’s, lives expendable if it would stop The Other, War Princess’ were raised knowing they may give their lives for their people, but obviously Agatha wasn’t used to such realities.

                “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, glancing at them both. Zeetha shook her head.

                Tarvek looked uncomfortable. “Well, you _really_ shouldn’t be,” he sighed. “As far as you knew it was the only option. I wish I could have told you otherwise, I really do, but we had a time limit, the Geisterdamen had been informed of you coming through, and I couldn’t be sure Lucrezia wouldn’t pop out at the worst moment.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

                It was quite for a moment, then, “What other options were there?”

                “Agatha, I have been studying Lucrezia tech for a long time. It’s not easy, the Geisterdamen don’t trust me and sure don’t want me poking around in their Lady’s machines, but I have.” He took off his glasses with a slight fumble and began to wipe the lenses. “Believe it or not I wanted to make a cure. I thought that… well, that if I openly exposed the wasps, and then cured everyone, people would consider me a hero and well… I could become Storm King.”

                He shrugged. “Better than the plan some of my extended family is trying, Fake Heterodyne girl and everything.”

                Agatha furrowed her eyebrows. “A Heterodyne _girl_ , why?”

                Tarvek stilled, and then blushed bright red. “Ah, well… em, you _have_ heard of The Storm King Opera, yes?” Agatha blinked and then blushed as well. Zeetha glanced between the two of them with a cocked eyebrow, a sudden interest in Europa literature blooming within her, anything that could get those to as red as that had to be interesting.

                Zeetha paused. Then again, she didn’t know Agatha well, but she did know Tarvek. It wasn’t that hard to get Prince Proper to blush.

                Tarvek cleared his throat. “Yes well, to get back on point. I did get a chance to work with Lucrezia for a while, learn some of her secrets.” He looked disturbed. “She is so far ahead of us and she didn’t even realize, it’s alarming really, but I did learn a lot. … Nothing on wasps unfortunately, but she had me help her improve her Summoning Engine—“

                “Yes, Vrin mentioned something about that—“

                “I think I can get her out of your head!”

                The room went silent.

                “…Really,” Agatha asked in a small voice. Tarvek pinched his nose.

                “Not yet… but I have some ideas. Ideally I was going to follow Lucrezia to where ever she was going and learn more from her. Having gotten caught once I knew my loyalty was questioned so I had to give up the Spark Wasp to her, but thankfully—“

                “Spark Wasp!”

                Tarvek winced. “A very distant relative of mine from Passholdt had been given several hives to care for, or so the paper I found said, and _well_ , he was a Spark, a particularly insane one.”

                “Passholdt,” Agatha said distantly as if lost in a memory. She shook it off after a moment. “But you _gave_ it to _Lucrezia_.”

                “ _Yes_ , but Agatha, the thing about her not having Spark Wasps, it started as a requirement for The Order’s help years ago, not because there’s something _strange_ about us that makes Wasp not work.

                “Lucrezia might not know how to make them now, but I don’t think it would have been too hard for her to do is she wanted, and Lucrezia said a couple of things to me that made me think that she was already thinking about it. Plus, after being caught once I expected it to be _me_ she used it on!”

                Agatha stared at him as if he was stupid. “Use it on you, and that would help _how_?” Agatha growled in frustration.

                Tarvek pulled out his journal, the one he used to use to try and figure out Zeetha’s Skiff, and opened it to a page near the end. “Because, when I finally got into my father’s safe I didn’t just find the Spark Wasp, but also the notes. Do you realize how much Snarlantz had to reverse engineer the hives and wasps to do what he did? It was an information goldmine. From that, while I haven’t been able to figure a cure yet, I was able to make a vaccine.”

                “A Vaccine!”

                Tarvek nodded, and after a brief hesitation, handing her his book. “It’s encrypted but yes, a vaccine, both Zeetha and I took it, it wasn’t… _fun_ , but I’m almost certain it will work. I wouldn’t have given her The Spark Wasp otherwise.”

                Agatha paused from where she was puzzling out his encryption to stare at him. “Almost…”

                “Well yes, I haven’t gotten a chance to test it yet but—”

                “But _what_ , instead of _me_ risking _my_ life where failure would have still possibly ended with The Other being _exposed_ , _you_ were going to risk _your_ life with failure meaning you were there to help her take over. Risking _everything_! That was your _plan_?”

                Tarvek wilted. “I’m _really_ sure the vaccination will work,” he said in a small voice. Agatha rolled her eyes. “I was just buying time so I could _fix_ things.” He defended louder. “I’m _so_ close.”

                “Yeah, well maybe they aren’t _your_ things to _fix!_ ” Agatha declared firmly. Tarvek starred up at her, and then his gaze fell to the ground. An awkward silence filled the room. Zeetha shifted.

                Finally the silence was broken by Agatha sighing. “That thing I had, it was the Spark Wasp wasn’t it, what happened to it?”

                Tarvek looked confused. “Shouldn’t you still have it?”

                Zeetha froze and then desperately clapped her hands. Both Tarvek and Agatha looked over to her. Quickly she formed the hand signs for “Baron” and “Wasp.” Tarvek mouth fell open.

                “Your telling me she actually wasped The Baron?”

                “Wait what?!”

                Zeetha ignored their panic and jumped over to the pile of dirty clothes they had stripped Agatha out of the night before. Grabbing the jacket she found what she was looking for, a small empty husk. She turned back to the two to find them ranting over each other.

                “I mean that was probably my father’s favorite fantasy, but I never thought it would happened. Never thought there was the slightest chance someone could get that close to him, not with our resources. And then he come’s flying down and steps right into it.” Tarvek grasped his head.

                “This is all your fault!” Agatha accused with a pointed finger. Tarvek tried to ignore her.

                “How was I supposed to know he was going to show up. I gave it to her when I still thought a Questor was coming. Our reports showed that very few of The Baron’s Questors are Sparks, I thought it would be fine!”

                Zeetha scowled and clapped her hands again, before shoving the wasp husk between the two bickering Sparks. They stopped short to stare at it.

                “Oh we can _use_ this, if we make a cure fast enough we can cure him before anything happens.” Tarvek said, snatching the husk from Zeetha’s hand.

                “You mean cure the leader of the empire you want to lead,” Agatha reminded suspiciously.

                Tarvek turned to her, his face serious. “Agatha I do _not_ like The Baron. I didn’t like him as a child. I don’t like him now. He’s a usuper, a tyrant, cruel, and knows nothing about respect or real diplomacy. That said, I respect his methods, learn from the ones that work, and I know full well how bad things will get if he’s on The Other’s side.”

                He looked down at the Husk. “Had I the chance I would have sent him a free dose of the vaccine, already prepared, no poison, nothing, if I thought he would take it. Things are going to go bad fast if we don’t do something.”

                “But surely it’s not _that_ big of a hurry,” Agatha said after a moment of digesting Tarvek’s words. “It will take time for them to set up the Summing Engine and—“ She paused a look of concern passing her face. “Wait Vrin said something about your sister?”

                A dark look passed Tarvek’s face. “She wasn’t my sister!” he said as if reminding himself. “She died years ago, the person in the clank, well I don’t know who she was, but she wasn’t my sister…” He paused. “Not fully.” He added in a mumble.

                Taking a deep breath he continued before Agatha could process what he just said. “Unfortunately my ‘deal’ with Lucrezia involved creating a clank head for her, one in which she could download herself into, and well, pretend to be Princess Anevka.

                “But surely organic to mechanical—“

                “That’s what I thought, but she did it so easy,” he looked sick. “Practiced actually, and she has—“

                “— A copy of my voice,” Agatha finished with sigh.

                “Which means that’s as soon as The Baron has an audience with my ‘sister’ she can control him, we might already be too late. The fighting won’t last forever,” Tarvek said dejectedly. Agatha looked embarrassed.

                “Not exactly,” She admitted weakly. “He probably won’t be conscious for a couple of days. I may of… um… droppeda _chickenhouse_ onhim!” She said, the last bit of it coming out real fast. Tarvek stared at her in shock.

                “You dumped a _chicken house_ on _The Baron_.” Tarvek said in amazement. Agatha couldn’t help but blush. “You are my new hero!”

                “Tarvek!”

                Zeetha snorted in mild amusement, and then bit her lip from pain. She would need more of that numbing stuff soon. Under their feet the entire airship shook. Tarvek went a little green as Agatha became curious.

                “We’re going rather fast,” she said. “Where are we going?”

                “Mechanicsburg,” Tarvek answered. “I got the impression that your Master Payne has no desire to delay you from your quest”

                There was a knock at the door. “Master Payne is asking everyone meet him on The Bridge for an announcement!”

 

                The Bridge was packed. Every person not completely essential to keeping them up in the air had been squeezed in. Master Payne stood in the front, The Countess uncharacteristically holding onto his arm, their faces frozen in solemn misery. The tension in the room was somber.

                “This is it,” said Master Payne with a voice that allowed no arguments. “Master Payne’s Circus of Adventure is finished.” He paused as if he expected a reaction but everyone remained dead silent.

                “By aiding the Lady Heterodyne we have done what armies could not. We have humiliated The Baron and escaped to tell the tale.” He shook his head. “No matter what we promise, he cannot afford to let us get away, and we won’t— if we stay together.”

                That caused some murmuring and Agatha looked heartbroken. Master Payne raised a hand and all sound stopped. “Once we have dropped off The Lady Heterodyne we will go to Paris. Once there we will try and sell the airship, but likely we will have to abandon it, afterwards we must go our separate ways.”

                That caused a much sharper reaction.

                “It cannot be helped!” Master Payne roared. “We have made our living by being fabulous creatures and thus, we are _memorable_. As a group we are even more so. We must change or we will _die_!”

                The Countess gripped her husband’s sleeve. “Payne,” her whisper sounded loud in the silence. “Are you saying that we would have to… leave _show business_?”

                Everybody’s breath caught.

                Master Payne shrugged uncomfortably, “We… might.”

                There was a sob from the crowd.

                Suddenly, another voice rang out. “It doesn’t have to come to that.” Wooster said stepping from the crowd. “You don’t even have to disband. Instead you can come to perform for my countrymen. Come to England.”

                He indicated Agatha, who stood in the back with Tarvek, Zeetha, and the Jägers. “The Lady Heterodyne and myself will be heading their directly. If you come as well you will all be guests of Her Majesty the Queen. You’ll be new. Exciting! A glamorous continental import with a stunning story to tell! You’ll be the toast of Britain and preform before her Majesty herself.”

                Master Payne frowned. “We’ll be used as propaganda against the Empire.”

                Wooster paused. “Are we talking about the same Empire that will kill you should they catch you? Why yes sir, I do believe we are. It’s up to you how much loyalty you still hold for the Empire. For what it’s worth you will not be asked to spread falsehoods.”

                Master Payne closed his mouth and looked out at the rest of his troupe. “Your thoughts? This affects us all.”

                “I doubt we’re worth an international incident,” The Countess conceded. She brightened, “And I am a third cousin to Albia, by marriage. Many, many times removed of course.”

                “Preformed for royalty always looks good on the playbills,” A small mechanic said.

                “Oh yes,” another man said gloomily, glancing back towards Balan’s gap. “That worked out so well last time.”

                “I think getting Balthazar into a real school might be a good thing,” A woman said to her husband.

                The boy in question yelped. “Whoa! Hold On! They’d… they’d make me wear shoes!”

                All across the room more and more of the performers found themselves warming to the idea. Finally there was a show of hands, the result was almost unanimous.

                In the back of the room Zeetha frowned, and nudged Agatha. She looked up at her and shrugged.

                “I have no idea how he came to the conclusion I was going to England with him.” She paused for a second. “He was with the group that found Lucrezia I think, maybe she agreed, he may not know I wasn’t well— me at the time.” She winced.

                “Well you better go set him straight before he gets us off course,” Tarvek muttered to her, eyeing the conversing circus master and spy.

                Agatha walked forward, and without much else to do her little group followed.

                “Mechanicsburg?” Wooster asked in surprise.

                “Yes Mr. Wooster,” Agatha said. “They are dropping me off.”

                “What!” His face went white. “But… but back in Stumhulten you agreed to come to England. Mechanicsburg was the last place you wanted to go!”

                “Did I,” Agatha winced. “Well unfortunately that wasn’t… well me at the time.” She paused and thought on the rest of Wooster’s words, _interesting._

                Wooster stared at her, and then remembered the message. “…Ah”

                Agatha snapped from her thoughts and looked at Wooster evenly. “You think I should go to England?”

                A little shine of hope sparked in his eyes. “Indeed I do. Right now the Wulfenbaches want you under their thumb. In England, you will be under the protection of Her Majesty. Once there, you will be able to negotiate in safety.”

                Agatha thought on this, but Tarvek shook his head.

                “Her Majesty and The Baron may be at odds with each other now, but they were once allies against The Other. To be honest I doubt you would be much safer there then you would be here, or have any more freedom.”

                Agatha grimaced but agreed. “The Baron might even prefer it, this way he doesn’t have a dangerous, potentially The Other, Spark running around his empire.”

                She shook her head. “And anyway, if I want to be treated as The Heterodyne, than I have to get to Mechanicsburg. Once I’m established, it’ll be a different story.”

                The Cat nodded. “Yes, you’ll be a sovereign power then, but that means that if you break the Pax Transylvania he’ll legally be able to roll in and crush you.” He paused. “And after your message, and that little show with his wagons, he may very well do so anyway, to hell with legalities.”

                Agatha nodded. “Krosp, you’ve studied military history, has anyone ever taken Mechanicburg?”

                Krosp paused. “No,” he admitted. “But that was when the Heterodynes were in control. And, I’ll point out, no one has successfully resisted the Baron either.”

                “Interesting fight,” Zeetha mused, her nose only just flaring from pain. Tarvek gave her a withering glance.

                “I’m pretty sure I told you not to talk,” he reminded. Zeetha shrugged.

                “But—” Wooster started, looking a little panicked. “You can still be The Heterodyne in England as well. You don’t _have_ to fight The Wulfenbaches.”

                Agatha turned to him, her face nothing but serious determination. “Yes, I imagine that’s one of the reasons your government would love to have me. But I’m going to Mechanicsburg, and I’ll tell you why. When my mother, Lilith, was about to throw me to safety, she said, ‘Go. Get to Castle Heterodyne. It will help you.’ She _knew_ people, Klaus Wulfenbach amongst them, would be after me. But _that’s_ where she told me to go. Mechanicsburg.”

                She looked at Wooster directly in the eye. “And since she was one of the two people in the word that I trust completely, _that_ is where I’m going.”

                Wooster dropped his eyes and sighed wearily. “I see.” He squared his shoulders and grinned. “Then I guess I better go with you.” He turned to Master Payne. “My offer still stands, or course. But instead of me going direct, I will give you a letter to hand to Her Majesty’s ambassador in Paris, I suspect you will be on a submersible within a week.”

                Agatha nodded, “Very well Mr. Wooster. I imagine you will be quiet useful, and I promise I will visit your Queen eventually, if only to see how well my friends have been treated.”

                Wooster smiled ruefully, “Perfectly understandable, I best find some writing paper so I can pen those letters.” He walked off.

                Agatha turned to Master Payne and his wife just as Tarvek gently took ahold of Zeetha arm and pulled her aside. She gave him a strange look once they were relatively alone.

                “We need to go with her.” He told her quietly. Zeetha stared at him, she had thought going with her was obvious. She still needed to ask about Skifander.

                “She said she squished The Baron with a Chicken house.” He lips twitched even as he tried to stay serious. “And that he will be out for a while. If he is really that hurt then the closest, and best hospital, is The Great Hospital in Mechanicsburg.”

                Zeetha mulled over that information, getting into Mechanicsburg suddenly sounded that much harder. The place already would have been swarming for people looking for Agatha, but with The Baron is town defenses were going to be sky high.

                “The two biggest priorities’ at the moment is for Agatha to be established, and for The Other to _not_ get ahold of The Baron. We are protected by the fact that she shouldn’t know he’s wasped, and the fact he will be under constant guard and unconscious, but that won’t last long. So we really need to get a cure.”

                He patted his jacket, where he had stored the Wasp hive husk. “With this and my vaccine I might just be able to make one, and the easiest way of getting to The Baron would be while he’s down. Once he’s up and healed it might just become impossible. This could be our only chance.”

                Zeetha eyed him as Agatha was overrun by well wishes and questions from the other performers. Getting The Baron out of the clutches of The Other really was first priority, but she had a feeling his motives were being directed more by his ambitions then his sense of good will. She sighed and shook her head as Agatha freed herself from the crowd.

                “What are you guys talking about?”

                Tarvek looked over to her, his face set in stone. “We’re coming with you.”

                Agatha blinked at them. “But… but your hurt.”

                “I’m not that badly hurt,” Tarvek defend, waving his arm and failing to hide a wince.

                “And anyway,” his voice lowered. “We need to make that cure don’t we. To do that we need labs.”

                “You can get labs in Paris, England,” Agatha stated flatly. Zeetha suddenly felt her stomach drop, she hadn’t asked about Skifander yet and if Agatha made them go away…

                “And what do you think will happen if I try and take this into another country? They would take it from, possibly imprison me, and try to do it themselves, or if were really unlucky, try and copy it.”

                Agatha didn’t look convinced. “Then maybe I should take the husk.”

                “Agatha I had to leave the notes behind in my father’s safe, it was too risky to carry them. At the moment you need me, I’m the only one that’s not with The Other who knows much of anything on Wasps.”

                “But I don’t trust you,” she growled in frustration.

                “You’re going to be The Heterodyne,” Tarvek said flatly. “I know you weren’t raised as one but you don’t have the _luxury_ of trust. You have to use what you _have_. And at the moment that’s _me_.”

                Agatha snorted heavily through her nose. “Fine.” She muttered. “You can come.”

                “Thank you.” Tarvek said pleasantly. Agatha rolled her eyes and walked away. He grimaced. “That didn’t go well did it.”

                Zeetha gave him a withering look and he sighed.

                It wasn’t much later before the party to Mechanicsburg met up in the hanger. Several horses had been pulled from the onboard stable and were being prepped by one of the performers. Agatha went to talk with her as Wooster spotted the Geisterdamen sword in Zeetha’s hand.

                “You can’t bring that,” he said with some alarm. “It’s too distinctive, Mechanicsburg is going to be crawling with Wulfenbach soldiers and at least a few would have seen you and that sword.”

                Zeetha frowned as Tarvek came up behind her.

                “He’s right,” he told her.

                Zeetha sighed and passed it to a startled performer, who had come down to wave Agatha off, with some reluctance. He stared down at it with some confusion before his eyes lit up.

                “This would be great for the shows!” he said to another performer next to him. He turned to look at her with a grin. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to portray you kindly,” he added before the two performers walked off, talking about possible show plots and if it would be too much to have the fight with the Baron in one. Zeetha watched them go bewildered.

                Dimo placed a hand on her shoulder and Zeetha tensed and turned to look at him, rolling her shoulders stiffly. Once he had her attention he drew a small dagger and holster from his belt. “Ve don’t hef any extra svords,” he told her. “But hyu ken hef dis, It von’t do to hef hyu onarmed.”

                Zeetha looked at it and took it slowly. With a nod of thanks (It was not worth getting Tarvek’s ire for trying to talk again when he was right there) she drew it and tested its weight in her hand. In Skifander, as a War Princess, it was customary to learn many different weapons, but she hadn’t worked with knives in years. Still it felt… good to have a weapon period.

 

                Ten minutes or so later the airship made a bumpy landing into a field of a small abandon farm. The doors opened and the three Jägers jumped out, eyes glancing around the area. The ramp lowered and down came four horses led by five figures.

                They paused at the farm just long enough for the ship to raise, the waving figures aboard fading, as the airship set off away from the sun. Agatha, in the lead, waved one last time before letting her arm drop. It was quite as they set off down the long road.

                Mechanicsburg awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end... of Part 2 at least. I have Part 3 half outlined and I'm thinking on a Part 4, because I do want to get to Skifander and their no way that's happening in Part 3. Unfortunately while now I, probably know why my joints ache real bad, it's going to be awhile before Part 3 will be up, sorry.
> 
> I like to think that in this universe the Circus ends up turning Zeetha into a green haired folk hero with a Geisterdamen sword who stopped the evil Baron. The fact that later people find out he was her father just makes it more popular.


End file.
